You Were Once my Friend
by Silly like a fool
Summary: A destructive and vampiric race ravages Earth, and after an encounter with one of them Piccolo is left struggling between the man he was and the creature he now is. Evil is slowly consuming him, and with temptation in his grasp, Piccolo falls. G/P P/OC
1. Helpless

This chapter is a kind of introduction to what is happening, further chapters will be more detailed and will contain more character development. I don't own Dragonball Z, or any of their characters or contents. Enjoy!

**Chapter One - Helpless**

Piccolo's boots collided with the ground as he ran, the dirt and rain blending in his vision, making the trees and paths blur. The sound of air ripping through his lungs and scorching the back of his throat made being covert impossible, despite his black attire. The thudding of his steps consumed his hearing, and only the slightest flash of movement reminded him of the unwelcome company. As he plummeted down a rocky cropping, he glanced at the blistered moon, glowering at the orbiting menace and its cruel decision to refuse any kind of illumination. Tripping and blundering, Piccolo felt the warm crawl of blood stream down his legs and older wounds attempt to close; he wasn't healing. Without even a moment to consider why he couldn't fly, or regenerate as normal he simply ploughed through the Earth's vegetation like a razor blade. Slow growls filled the atmosphere as the storm circled, and Piccolo felt the familiar and once comforting sharp electricity in the air. Halting suddenly, he darted left. Capsule Corp was only a few miles away and he needed help, desperately. He caught glimpses of speed and image as the creatures stalked him relentlessly, their strength and endurance far superior to the Namek's. He was injured in several places, as well as without the abilities that have saved him before. Seeing the white globe of the corporate giant spill into view, he forced his feet to race ahead.

Seeing the town more clearly, he slowed to observe the devastation. Stone was chipped and strewn across the street, people lay either dead or injured amongst the streets and buildings were seemingly decadent and empty. Brick decorated the Capsule Corp's previously groomed lawns and as Piccolo raised his eyes to the building he blinked back confusion. It was devastated, parts of the structure were missing and the broken door was ajar. The white walls were now grey and black, burnt and scathed. After a few seconds Piccolo realised his open position and he dived in; hoping that whatever had ravaged its walls was not still inside. Quietly, he padded through the halls. Bulma's labs lay in ruin, some simply riffled through, others with items torn from their wires and origins. This fuelled an interest in Piccolo, what they had taken was mainly medical. He had assumed his assailants had little intelligence or urge to pursue science, but the opposite was evident. Concern grew in his stomach, and he turned corner after corner in search of life. Each corridor was filled with broken stone and the once polished floors were dirty and cracked. The building's generators were providing some electricity for the few intact lights, which were buzzing and swinging in defiance to the mass black out. Stopping at the end of one excessively long hallway, he turned abruptly. Around twenty feet away was a man, or a humanoid creature, Piccolo could not distinguish if either were accurate. Standing as straight as possible, cringing at pain which would normally not bother him, he gripped his hand in a fist. The creature stood slightly taller than Piccolo, and its pale skin glowed through even the dark distance which stood between them. The Namek felt his heart quicken, and the apparent loss of his Chi made his mind reel in despair. The creature simply stood; its unforgiving coloured eyes boring into Piccolo. Realising the situation he was in, Piccolo searched for any plausible escape. The material of his black shirt tore as he plunged through the window on his left, and feeling a penetrating shame at his fleeing he closed his eyes as he ran.

His speed was unimpressive compared to the creature's sprint. Within seconds the heavier man had caught up the Namek, so close Piccolo could feel the heat of the chase creep through his body. With disbelief, Piccolo felt himself slip back momentarily, and in that instant the creature had collided into the Namek's back. Its nails clawed into his shoulders, and as Piccolo's face hit the ground it landed heavily on his back. Crushing the breath from his already damaged lungs, Piccolo's vision wavered and he blinked blood from his eyes as it swam down his forehead. He felt a piercing pain in his right shoulder and his body recoiled and thrashed, throwing the monster enough so Piccolo could leap forward. His green skin was marred with dirt and the purple of his blood, the rain refusing to rinse the stains from his skin. He tried to pick his feet up, leaning forward in hope of movement but despite his struggling, he only stumbled. Landing clumsily on the ground, Piccolo allowed himself to rest for a minute; the majority of his reasoning had long since vanished from his mind. The creature stood behind and looked down, seeing the collapsed Namek stop still. It watched for a short while, observing Piccolo's tattered black jeans and shirt, wet with rain and soil. Minutes passed, and it moved closer to Piccolo whilst glancing at the surrounding buildings. Looking up, the pale creature saw a group of men peer from the distance. Seeing their determination he turned to face them, laughing at their attempts at intimidation. Goku walked towards him, with confidence despite his evident lack of Chi, and he cocked his head in curiosity. As the Saiyan approached, the creature released long silver implements from his relaxed hands and its tail clad itself with the same apparent metal, sharpening at the end. The same colour filled his Iris' and they gleamed, flashing its wild and insane temperament. Thrashing his tail, it sliced the stone ground, each blade fashioning its own pattern. Lowering his silver eyes, the creature looked to his right at Piccolo's relaxed and injured form. Glancing towards the advancing Goku, he turned his back to the Saiyan and walked away. Goku stared in shock as the man quickly disappeared into its habitual darkness. Confusion filled his head and he could not think of a reasonable explanation for the creature's departure. Leaning down to tend to his friend, Goku lifted Piccolo carefully and carried him into the safe depths of Capsule Corp.

Bulma cleaned Piccolo's face and arms with a damp cloth, before applying the antiseptic spray. Goku, Gohan and Vegeta had required Bulma's attention earlier that day, and their surprise at their own fragility unnerved them. Piccolo was laid on a table, still clad in his unusual attire, which was damp and the extent of his injuries could be seen even through his dark shirt. Running her hands down his arms, in the clinical bright light of her medical room, she gasped and immediately alerted Goku.

"Goku, something's happened to Piccolo"

Rushing in, with a concerned Gohan at his feet, Goku emulated Bulma's shocked expression.

"What's happened to his arms, where's the pink?"

"I have no idea, but I'm running some blood tests to identify any infection or virus which could be causing it"

"A virus could change his skin?!"

"Not exactly, but it could affect his DNA, I have very little information about Namek you know!"

"Ok, ok. Is he ok? I can see from here that he's in pretty bad shape"

"I think so, he's quite badly injured but it will heal. He's obviously suffering from a lack of Chi as well though. Not to mention this nasty mess on the side of his neck. It looks like that freak tried to eat him!"

Goku tried to find the comment humorous, but the reality was that she was probably right. These creatures were tearing throughout Earth, with their endless destruction. They didn't look like the one he had encountered by Piccolo however; they certainly couldn't protrude metal implements from their skin. He mused for a few seconds, before Gohan's recent adult voice roused him from his thoughts.

"How long before he's able to get up Bulma?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself? He's waking up now. But be careful, I'm sure he'll be cranky. Even more than usual"

She said it with a smile, which reminded Goku of days when they could smile about such things. As the years passed, so did their spirit it seemed. As Bulma walked towards her lab equipment, he raised his concerned eyes to Piccolo when the Namek spoke.

"Gohan? What happened? I was so sure you were all dead…and where am I? I thought Capsule Corp was devastated?"

Bulma chose to intercede; explaining how the building had a safe and secure section, concealed enough to go unnoticed and strong enough to withhold a sizeable attack. Piccolo nodded in response, feeling like his body was tied together with string. In the adjoining sitting room the rest of their friends sat and stood, concerned and agitated. Goten and Trunks played on a colourful matt oblivious to the misery around them, taunting with their content laughter. The television was reporting the attack, some of them repeating as their stations had been destroyed. The monsters were killing and assuming control rapidly, despite all resistance from the military and even people themselves. Every few minutes, the signal would blur as local and national communications declined and despair was heavy in the empty air. Earth was being destroyed, and what was left would be in the hands of this ruthless race. Everyone in the room watched on and for the first time, they were helpless to stop it.

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	2. Trust

**Chapter two - Trust**

Only half an hour had passed before Piccolo refused to be stationary and under the scrutiny of Bulma's overly curious eyes and unwelcome tools. She had left the room momentarily, in search of yet more testing equipment, and Piccolo took the opportunity to escape into the adjoining hallway. Limping down the well maintained passageway he pushed his way into an empty room with a patient's bed and some strange monitors and tubing. Landing on the bed awkwardly, his eyes closing as pain tunnelled through his body, he observed his injuries. He was unimpressed to find that he hadn't imagined the loss of pink on his arms, shoulders and torso. He thumbed the green skin there and noted it was somewhat paler than the rest, probably due to lack of sun exposure. His stomach was stitched up, and he felt anger build up in his mind as he realised he still wasn't healing as normal. Looking up and sighing he clenched and opened his hands repeatedly, unused to not having a solution or knowing what was going on. As his throat moved in response to his sighs he cringed, the injury on the side of his neck was unnecessarily painful and still bled out slightly. He raised his right hand to touch it but was interrupted in his vulnerable assessment. Gohan stood in the doorway, obviously concerned and annoyed at Piccolo wandering off wounded. Piccolo watched Gohan for a few moments, noting how adult his student had become and how responsibly mature the young man proved to be. His amusement was cut short by Gohan's inquisitive words.

"How are you holding up? You know you won't heal if you don't stay still and rest?"

He didn't receive an answer; Piccolo was typically ignorant of the question and only grumbled in response.

"Piccolo, you have to lie down otherwise that cut on your stomach will…what happened to your throat?!"

Reaching his hand towards Piccolo, the Namek moved back away from the contact. Gohan looked down at Piccolo's chest and arms, seeing the constant Jade throughout and almost wondered if someone was impersonating his mentor. After Piccolo had disappeared into another room Bulma had explained the results of Piccolo's blood tests. It seems that he has been slightly altered, and as a result his trademark pink had been replaced with green. Apparently, his DNA had been tampered with but nothing significant had happened and Piccolo should, lack of pink aside, be exactly the same. She couldn't identify the source, but mused that the creature that had bitten him may have transmitted a virus into Piccolo's bloodstream. Gohan had immediately gone in search of his friend after hearing Bulma's diagnosis and wasn't shocked to find him brooding alone.

Gohan moved to sit beside Piccolo, though far enough away for the stoic Namek to be comfortable. The room was only partially lit and the young man had difficulty discerning any emotion in his friend's eyes. Piccolo didn't feel inclined to talk to Gohan and feeling sick to his stomach, only wished to be left to close his eyes and think. He wondered why that creature had followed him into Capsule Corp alone; he had observed their tendency to travel in groups. He tried to remember the day before they arrived and realised that the attack had been raging for almost three days. Swallowing, he recalled searching for Gohan and finding him nowhere, when the night came he feared finding his young student face down in the dirt. As Piccolo thought, Gohan noticed a slight flash of silver in his eyes. Staring at him, waiting to see if the light was reflecting to produce such a liquid colour he drew Piccolo's attention. Looking to his right, he saw Gohan perched on the uncomfortable bed waiting. Realising Gohan's intention to stay there until he communicated in some way he spoke, somewhat nervously.

"Is everyone ok?"

"Yeah they are! Though we had a rough time earlier on when we went looking for you and a group of them attacked us. There was something weird that Dad told me, you know what thing that hurt you? Well…"

Gohan stopped abruptly when Goku entered the room, with a very strange look on his face. The Saiyan looked unusual with such a serious expression, and Piccolo immediately felt his chest churn anxiously. Goku asked Gohan to leave and the young man stood reluctantly, flashing Piccolo a reassuring grin and strolled out towards the sitting room. He watched Gohan leave and Piccolo felt a childish pang for the young half-saiyan to stay, he wasn't exactly looking forward to Goku's news. The Saiyan stood by the door when he spoke, unnerving the Namek.

"Piccolo, Bulma uncovered something peculiar in your blood work which she didn't mention in front of Gohan."

He waited for a reply but Piccolo remained silent.

"It seems a virus was transmitted into your blood stream, and it's altering you. The same thing was found in their blood. We're assuming it may be contagious and dangerous, not to mention mutating rapidly. I'm sorry."

"What are you saying?"

Piccolo spat out his words, feeling the cold in Goku's voice.

"We think you may be showing signs of becoming like them. I mean, it did bite you…"

"That's ridiculous! I feel fine! I am fine!"

"I'm sorry Piccolo, but for now you're staying here?"

Despite the question in his voice Goku did not wait for a reply. He locked the door, and Piccolo watched him walk down the hallway through the constricting window. He didn't even look back, no trace of regret for what he had just said. Resentment filled him, and he felt the slow bruise of loneliness sting. Sat in the solitary room, which was grey in décor, he felt dejected and like the town he was in, destroyed. Looking down at the tiled floor, he thought of Gohan and the many times he fought with his friends to save the world he called home. They were going to ask him to leave. For the first time since he was a child he felt his eyes burn but refused to allow any such display of emotion. Instead he allowed anger to bubble inside him, and their cold display only fuelled it. Standing he moved over to the cabinet, and pulled out a shirt. Luckily it was dark purple in colour, his favourite, and he slipped it over his shoulders and buttoned it without causing too much pain. He walked towards the door and kicked it open, leaving it ruined on the floor. He stormed down the hallway in the opposite direction of everyone else and after a few minutes he exited the building.

The streets were still empty and broken; though the early morning light lit the sights he missed the previous night. People where strewn awkwardly, and blood had dried and coloured the pavement in a dark paint. He stood still for a long while, the pale illumination making Piccolo look ghostly and his bruises and cuts appeared at one with the scene. He started walking down the road, stepping over the dead and feeling the devastation mock his survival. As he moved down the road he stopped suddenly. The man that attacked him the night before was stood only a few feet away. Piccolo didn't bother preparing for an attack and only stood there and waited for the creature to move. Minutes passed before the other man decided to walk forward, and when he reached Piccolo he stopped, far too close for the Namek's comfort. The creature's dark hair seemed untouched by the dirt and dust, and his skin pale and unmarked. The silver blue in his eyes searched Piccolo's obsidian ones, and after a while Piccolo broke the eye contact and stood back slightly. When he moved, he felt the wound in his stomach tear and he lurched forward in pain. The creature caught the Namek, lifting him up and holding him still. It's gravely voice penetrated Piccolo's daze.

"It will only hurt for a while. Why have you left the safety of your people?"

Piccolo tried to stand but the creature held him down, waiting for an answer. Its strong hands refused to budge, and Piccolo was becoming increasingly angry at the other man's actions. Hearing a human walk towards the two of them, the creature dropped Piccolo abruptly. The human man approached him, and yelled, without showing any fear. As the man reached striking distance he stopped, a sudden realisation of how close he was to the monster dawned in his brown eyes, but he could not avoid the creature's swift movement. Releasing its metallic blades from his hands he pushed them through the human's skull. The man's shocked expression was forever preserved on his features and blood seeped through his nose and mouth. Without even the smallest respect, the monster threw the body to the side roughly. Turning back to face the awkwardly poised Namek, he noticed Piccolo's horrified expression and spoke to ease him.

"You'll get used to that. And when it really kicks in, it will be all you can do to stop yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough"

Piccolo stood and straightened out with a grimace, disappointed to find the creature was taller than him. Without any warning, he saw the creature disappear from view as he fell flew sideways, landing clumsily. Piccolo whipped round and saw Goku standing there, the Saiyan grabbed Piccolo's arm and dragged him back to Capsule Corp.

Sitting with the rest of his friends, Piccolo was wordless and simply remained silent while Goku babbled.

"I can't believe you went?! What were you thinking? You could have been killed. Did you really think we would abandon you?"

With a smile threatening to possess his lips, Piccolo swallowed it and nodded a thank-you to Goku for finding him. He felt that heavy loneliness lift and despite the fear he felt so severely, Piccolo wasn't alone. He had no doubt however, that the creature would visit him again and he was sure it was only going to complicate things. Watching Trunks and Goten sleep on their makeshift bed, he wondered for their safety. Looking up, he felt concern for all of them, their lives were in danger and he couldn't protect them, not even Gohan. Chi-chi and Bulma sat chatting, obviously attempting to forget the situation and lighten the mood. Vegeta stood relentlessly in the corner, trying to prove that the last three days have not affected him. Krillan, 18 and the rest sat at the large table, planning strategy that would not work and discussing escape. As he sat calmly observing, inside he felt the calamity of hatred swarm his consciousness and knew that it would soon swallow him. Like those hateful and ruthless creatures out there he would lose all sense and reason. He was scared, and knew that soon he would become the monster they would all run from.

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	3. If I'd have Known

This is a little shorter, and more from Gohan's perspective. This may develop into a Gohan/Piccolo if it goes in the right direction, depending on the plot and so forth. Thankyou!

I don't own Dragonball Z or any of its characters or contents.

**Chapter Three – If I'd have known**

It was day five, and Gohan was beginning to feel the time bore into him. His mother sat solemnly opposite, tapping her fingers absently on the table. Goku was seated beside her, not holding her hand like another husband might, but instead looking into her hair, searching for her eyes. He feared that this time, he would not be able to save his family and he knew she would never forgive him. She wouldn't look at her husband, aware of the familiar despondency in his eyes. Gohan watched the silent role-play, like so many times before, and thought of Videl. Pan was sleeping on the sofa, her hair settling on her shoulders in the same fashion her mother's did. He had not seen Videl in months, not properly. Occasionally visiting to take care of Pan for the day or dropping by to talk to his mother did not, in his world, exemplify a brilliant marriage.

Pan's breathing was soft, her mind lost in some kind of childish serenity he felt unable to imagine. She was not old enough to realise the situation they were in, or mature enough to deal with it. Gohan blinked his eyes while looking at her, they were dry. Hers wouldn't be dry for long however, they would open wide and water when he told her, whilst stamping her feet no doubt. She would scream and babble words in her fury, without profanity or corruption. Pan would be upset, devastated, but right now she wouldn't hate him for it. For that, he was grateful.

Videl had left the Son house early that afternoon, five days ago, following an argument between herself and Gohan. The same insults and accusations were thrown in all directions, Gohan worked too much, Videl wasn't there enough. Pan had cuddled up to Chi-Chi amidst the heated arguments and Gohan remembered seeing her features scrunch in fear. He tried to calm down but couldn't, in his anger he began picking things up and slamming them down. He recalled feeling regret when Pan yelled but continued regardless. At that point Videl turned to leave, storming through the hall and out the door. Gohan didn't follow, his cold detachment refusing to allow him; a thought which would haunt him later that day. She had left two hours early, and if he knew then what would happen, he would have ripped her from her seat and dragged his stubborn wife indoors. Instead, she drove away.

Her death was reported on the news, along with many others. Savagely attacked by the so called "creatures of the night", she had unknowingly become a statistic. The disassociation comforted Gohan, but the repetitive news broadcasts had numbed his guilt, making him bitter. Looking up to his parents once again he saw that they're expressions had not changed. His mother's strength was wounded and Goku could not heal it, no matter how many times he looked in her direction. Gohan sympathised with his father but could not show it, he wanted his father to hurt, like he hurt. Goku's arms were scathed and bleeding, bandaged. Gohan saw the cuts on his father's face, one of them recent. Only half an hour ago, Gohan had witnessed a situation he thought would never come. Goku and Piccolo had fought viciously, and Gohan had found himself not wishing for his father's victory, but his mentor's.

Piccolo was slightly delusional of course; whatever was swimming in his veins was making him bloodthirsty and unreasonable. Bulma had walked towards the sleeping Namek and attempted to strap down his arms, knowing that soon he may lose control. When she approached he had attacked her, nearly killing her with the mere force of his movement. Goku had intervened, hitting Piccolo. They had tumbled to the floor and with Ki no longer being a factor in their battle Goku could not overwhelm the Namek as he thought. Piccolo attacked recklessly and without his usual grace, making Goku hesitate before tackling him down. Gohan had held back Vegeta, fearing for his mentor's life but luckily Piccolo was injected before the enraged man could interfere. Once Piccolo's arms relaxed and his unclothed and scratched torso was released by his father, Gohan leant down and picked the Namek up. Walking towards what was now Piccolo's room, down the hall, he contemplated his friend's situation.

Placing his sleeping form on the bed, he slipped the blanket over his legs and straightened the pillow. Fiddling with the sheet and tucking it under the mattress, he felt himself slip into what his mother would call a "chore induced coma". Piccolo's unusual behaviour was becoming a problem, his altered appearance and unresponsive nature only added to it. The iris of his eyes had developed a silver sheen, and his face seemed more ferocious somehow. Like the barely noticed gentler side of his mentor had been quickly replaced with something more sinister. Peering at Piccolo's face, he saw sleep soften his expression and Gohan found himself running his finger down the Namek's nose, and touching his antennae. His skin was softer than he expected, and the unusual features seemed more vulnerable and harmless in his sleep. Smoothing his thumb over the other man's cheekbone, he thought of the years he spent looking at his mentor. If Piccolo knew he was being even slightly intimate he would recoil and scowl; a thought which brought a smile to Gohan's face. It had been a long time since he visited his friend for more than a few passing moments, or a quick conversation at a gathering, and he knew Piccolo resented him for it.

Sighing, Gohan looked down at Piccolo's hands and gasped when he saw them. They looked frail, thin and despite their obvious ability to throttle they seemed barely strong enough to hold their own weight. His wrists seemed excessively slim without their pink armour and Gohan wondered if without it he was weaker. Would Piccolo notice the difference in his skin? He wondered if the Namek would recall the fight he had with his father or would the event simply slip from his mind? He had no doubt that Piccolo wouldn't remain sane for much longer. Lifting his head up, he thought for a minute. Perhaps "sane" was the wrong word, maybe "aware" was the right word. Screwing his eyes up, he closed them as the moistened. Or maybe "not on our side" is more fitting.

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	4. Heartache

Okay, this chapter explains a bit more. There will be some Gohan/Piccolo in later chapters, as well as Piccolo/OC. So you are warned. This update is a little late, but is a little longer :) so it's ok!

I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters or contents. Read On!

**Chapter Four - Heartache**

Piccolo had slept through the night soundly whilst the occupants in the living room mulled over their plan. Vegeta proposed that they should kill Piccolo, while Bulma suggested restraining him for study. Each knew their idea was preposterous but considering the events of the past few days, no matter how far fetched their plans were becoming, they weren't ridiculous. Gohan had sat next to Piccolo for hours before joining his parents in their seated misery and silent argument. He sighed, tired of the melancholy and unending heartache. Thumbing the wooden table he cringed, he still had to tell Pan. Worse, he had forgotten about Videl for hours and felt strangely comforted by his ignorance. He could feel himself numb to the thought of her, and warm to the thought of someone else. He was scraping his nail across the wood when Piccolo walked in.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath when Piccolo appeared, dressed in dark jeans and a shirt. The vulnerability in his face betrayed his straightened form and when he walked towards Gohan he hesitated, noticing the nervous looks and fidgeting which suddenly occurred. His feet padded softly on the carpet, slightly clawed and awkward. Arriving at the table, he glanced towards Goku and Chi-chi. Their disapproval was obvious, etched deeply in their expressions. Especially hers, Chi-chi now looked at Piccolo like the man he was. The creature that kidnapped her son and tried to kill her husband, the man who was falling apart from the start. He blinked away his musings, feeling revulsion for his self pity.

Sitting beside the young half-saiyan he looked at Goku more intently, receiving only a nod in return. He felt guilt surge through him as well as disgust at himself, even though he knew it was beyond his control. After staring at the ceiling from the bed he lay in for the past few hours, he had come to a decision. The ceiling's tiled pattern had tormented him, its repetitive nature reminding him. History repeats itself, and he knew only too well that he could become the hateful man his father had expected. He couldn't hurt Gohan, or any of his friends, and he knew that he would continue to hate them. The loneliness he once felt was bubbling into a self contained hatred and as he spent hours meditating, he had realised long ago that he would never overcome his darker side. His lust for violence was growing and burning within him, and as he sat beside his student, the guilt he felt made him close his eyes.

Piccolo opened his mouth to speak but barely a breath left his lips. He couldn't force the words from his throat, his mind refusing to authorise the sentence. Gohan could see that Piccolo's eyes were confused, even if the change was slight, and he wondered what his mentor was going through. The virus, according to Bulma, was now overwhelming Piccolo's body at an alarming rate. She explained that soon his friend would lose the one thing he had, the outstanding characteristic of Piccolo, his exceptional ability to think. Gohan swallowed and without thinking or even realising, his hand moved to Piccolo's cooler one. The shock of it made him flinch slightly, the strong yet soft touch of the other man being an unfamiliar feeling, but his subtle reaction didn't compare to the Namek's. Piccolo bolted upright, his back straightening so quickly that Gohan had only retrieved his to the safety of his chest. Piccolo spun towards the seated half-saiyan with a heartless rage swimming in his eyes, making Gohan gasp. His fangs glinted in the light as he bared his teeth and Gohan moved to stand up, intending to calm his friend. Piccolo saw the action and instinctively swung his right arm around but instead of the punch Gohan expected; Piccolo sliced his nails across the half-Saiyan's cheek.

Gohan did not see what had happened next, only heard it. Goku had yelled and he could hear the familiar smack of fists on flesh, only he couldn't distinguish who was attacking who. More shouts had echoed in his ears before he turned his head towards the scene. Piccolo lay on the ground, pinned and bloodied. Goku was straddling the Namek, pummelling his fists into the incapacitated man's chest. Purple streamed onto the carpet, dyeing the beige carpet a more vivid colour. Piccolo's eyes glazed over as Goku continued his onslaught and his hands loosened their grip around the Saiyan's arms.

Gohan immediately jumped, leaping to his friend's aid. As he moved, his motion seemed unnaturally slow as his arms reached forward and his fingers spread. Whilst Gohan forced himself ahead, he watched as Goku was ripped from Piccolo, flying backwards with a startled expression. As his father fell back, his eyes opened wide when he saw the creature that was now standing over his mentor. Gohan was still moving through the air when the intruder turned its head towards him, and unable to retreat, Gohan clenched his fist. Smooth alabaster skin complemented the creature's invasive silver orbs, and Gohan felt its glare bruise his bravery.

It stood, abruptly. Its left hand shot outward, hitting Gohan in the face and knocking him to the ground, effectively mocking his desperate leap. It towered over Piccolo, who lay paralysed with pain and confusion, and its power was evident in its attack. It observed the room, calmly and with a grace which angered Gohan. Its silver eyes gradually faded into a mahogany which surprised its apprehensive audience. Lifting its long legs over the Namek it looked around before walking towards the table where Chi-chi sat, still with fear. He sat down opposite her, shifting to sit more comfortably, and spoke. His deep voice shattered her determined silence.

"Tell me, how long did you think you were going to hide?"

"Get away from me!"

Her shrill voice made the man cringe, his heightened senses not appreciating her vocal response. Piccolo slowly clambered up, his wounds making discreet movement impossible, therefore drawing the attention of the newcomer. His left hand grasped his chest, but despite the pain he bared his teeth in protest to the taller man's intrusion. Piccolo stood facing his attacker, trying to divert its attention away from Gohan's mother. As it rose from the chair its appearance became obvious, strikingly different from any of them. Its dark hair seemed endlessly deep, and it blended well with the creature's dark clothing. Its long black coat flared out slightly, flaunting silver metal and a contrasting red shirt beneath the black layers. Gohan startled everyone in the room when he spoke, sure of himself.

"Are you their leader?"

He turned towards the young man and his eyes widened in amusement as he answered.

"Yes, I am"

Piccolo decided to intervene, walking towards him.

"What do you want?"

The man's boots were heavy, but did not land when he walked. The shifting of the fabric he wore was the only sound that betrayed his nearly silent steps. Broad shoulders filled the black bulky coat, and as he advanced on the Namek, his size became evermore apparent. Breathing in and clenching his jaw, Piccolo held himself still when the other man moved closer to him, and while he raised his hand closer to his tensed face. He smoothed his long fingers along jade skin as he moved his face towards Piccolo, almost touching his nose to the other man's. He whispered, so the other people in the room couldn't hear his words.

"I can hear your blood thud through your veins. Something tells me you're more frightened than they are"

Piccolo swallowed, feeling caught in the indulgence of an emotion he doesn't allow. He was losing control, allowing his body to succumb to fear and insecurity, letting his attacker in. The hatred he felt, for himself and those around him, was contradicting the concern that filled him. Closing his fingers around his wounded chest, he collapsed. Crashing to the ground, he fell wanton for unawareness.

A hard surface chafed at his back, rousing him from sleep. Without opening his eyes, Piccolo realised he could hear unusually well. The patter of rain, even through the thick walls, resounded around him. It was a pleasant, drowsy sound and it made him think of the sound damp grass makes when stepped on. At his waterfall, the sound of water is rushed and heavy, a complete contradiction of the soft tapping he heard on the building. His eyes shot open when he thought of Capsule Corp, the creature was inside their safe-hold and threatening their lives.

Leaning up, he recoiled as his head drummed in protest. Turning his head to the side he was pleased to see Gohan, seated beside him, with Pan cuddled in his arms. The young man's eyes were clouded with exhaustion, and his face looked older and worn. Piccolo quickly came to his senses, he scratched the surface beneath him and it splintered. He was on the table, and Gohan was on his right, the rest of the group were behind him, on the sofa, chairs and floor. He was perplexed to find the entirety of the group were on the right side of the room until he felt a warm hand on his left arm. Bolting upright he grabbed the creature's wrist, squeezing the cloth there. The other man was stood, his right arm in Piccolo's grasp, his left holding a needle which was poised above Piccolo's forearm. Seeing the confusion in Piccolo's face, the man spoke, this time more sincerely and gentler than before.

"Do not be alarmed, this will not hurt"

Continuing, he pierced the Namek's skin precisely and injected the contents of the needle. He wiped Piccolo's arm and flashed his teeth in a menacing smile when he noticed Trunks staring up at him from across the room. Gohan's daughter noticed the sharp teeth which grinned at her friend. Pan's childish words penetrated Piccolo's almost unaware state.

"Are you a Vampire?"

The man looked towards the little girl, perhaps intending to look comforting or nice but only appearing eerie. His cold words echoed in the silence.

"I suppose you could call me that"

"Is uncle Piccolo a Vampire too?"

With that, Piccolo's ears twitched, and denial marred his features. He would not be labelled a bloodthirsty monster, a creature which thrives in the heartache of others. Despite the phrases of protest that raged in his head, however, he was perfectly aware of his long-buried thirst for destruction.

"Let's see shall we?"

Gohan's brows furrowed at the creature's words. Refusing to let go of Pan, he did not see an opportunity to interfere and simply watched as the man grabbed his father from the floor. He dragged the Saiyan towards the sink at the far side of the room, and laid the injured man on the floor, ignoring his weakened struggles. Unfortunately for Goku, the taller man was much stronger and more than quick, thus able to withhold the man. Taking the writhing wrist, he allowed the long silver implements slide from his hand, looking surreal and unnatural, and sliced Goku's skin. The rest of the Z-Senshi looked on horrified, yet unable to act, fearing for both their lives and Goku's.

The reaction he had expected from Piccolo was immediate. The Namek was already sat with his legs over the edge of the table, anxiously clenching his fingers around the wood. He felt his nails dig into the table, and the sting went unnoticed. Blood sneaked down his hand in slim rivets, dripping quietly onto the floor. Without being able to stop it, he felt his fangs extend somewhat inside his mouth and his vision wash with a shaded hue. As his eyes adopted a silver sheen, Piccolo saw himself in the reflection of a mirror which was hung on the opposite wall. His mind swarmed with memories of Gohan and Goku, warm with their pleasant nature, taunting him of better times. Finding Gohan when he was young, bewildered and unaware of his own power, Piccolo had hated the child. It had only taken a short time for Piccolo to grow an attachment to the young man, and that bond had lasted longer than the hatred had. Looking into his reflection, black and white in his vision, he saw their friendship slip away. He felt unable to hold onto it, like it was being ripped from his heart. The love he once thrived on seemed to diminish. Cold and unmoved, Piccolo smirked when he spoke.

"Looks like you can see Vampires in the mirror after all"

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	5. Rapture

There will be more character development I promise. It's not all dark and doom either; it will probably get a little brighter. Thank you for all your reviews! Please Read on!

I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters or contents.

**Chapter five – Rapture**

Piccolo had moved swiftly, his body slipping through the air with ease. His body temperature plummeted as his heart poured its fury into his chest and his throat closed around it. He had reached Goku in a moment, his vision following him in his haste, the images assuming their rightful place in his eyes. The majority of the room had emptied, leaving only Gohan and Vegeta to rescue Goku from Piccolo's impending rage.

Vegeta flew in Goku's direction, while Gohan raced in front of Piccolo. His young student however, didn't wrap his arms around his enraged friend and didn't feel himself collide with the strong chest which he had always admired. Instead of grabbing Piccolo, Gohan's hands grasped desperately in the air where he should have been. Whipping around Gohan faced Vegeta, who had Goku awkwardly in his grasp, to find that their intruder had also vanished. He felt himself shake as a sudden frenzy swallowed him, he couldn't stop the scream as it left his lungs. His eyes watered with the sound, and his mouth hurt with its volume. He had not been fast enough, or strong enough. He had lost Piccolo, again.

When Piccolo's feet touched the ground, they flattened softly. The soil beneath his skin was damp and icy, reminding him of his freezing body. Opening his eyes, he saw the other man's arms around his waist, explaining how he had snatched Piccolo from the room. They were in a wooded area and although the night had stolen its busy atmosphere, its beauty was still overwhelming. Looking around, he could see Capsule Corp in the distance, the white globe almost luminous in the dark, glowing on the horizon. Piccolo realised that he had run through this wood several days ago, fleeing from his assailants. The creature let go of Piccolo and walked ahead of him, into the senseless maze of the trees. Leaving the Namek there, he sped away, confidant that Piccolo would pursue him.

He was right; Piccolo had immediately raced after his attacker, his legs propelling him forward. As he ran, his chest warmed and his body laced with feeling. Shaking his head, he tried to shed the unfamiliar energy from his mind, but only succeeded in making his head spin. The drive to find the other man made him move swiftly, and his teeth shimmered in the moon's gentle light as his passion for the chase made him smile. As he advanced on his slowing target, he felt adrenaline rush his system. Reaching his destination he was surprised to find that the other man had stopped and was facing him, smiling in his cold, familiar way. Piccolo halted, and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

"You may call me Ethan"

Piccolo suddenly realised that he did not know the other man's name, and was more shocked to find it was so simple. Piccolo watched intently, as Ethan approached him, suspicious and heavily aware of the creature's strength. He neared the Namek, and reached his hand up to Piccolo's face as he had done earlier that day. Thumbing his cheek, his fingers spread and smoothed down Piccolo's ear. Warm brown eyes stared into Piccolo's, filled with affection and something he couldn't identify.

Ethan pushed his nose next to Piccolo's and nuzzled the Namek. The touch made Piccolo recoil and squirm away, but the creature's grip was strong and refused to allow an escape. Nervousness made his breath catch in his throat, and his obsidian eyes adopted an anxious, meek appearance. Ethan's thick, dark hair softened his ferocious features and tickled Piccolo's antennae, which were buried in the thick mess. The sensation of the other man's skin made Piccolo's crawl pleasantly, lulling him into a drowsy confusion.

He knew that this intimacy was going to complicate his situation, he was already experiencing emotions he had previously only observed and he was ultimately, perplexed. Thoughts unravelled in his mind, and the soft touch was reminding him of Gohan, who had always desired his attention. He had left Gohan, and worse, he had not thought of the young half-saiyan since he arrived in the forest. His awareness of consequence was slowly becoming a dull, quiet noise in the back of his head. He desired and lusted after bloodshed, he could feel its hold on him grow and despite his disciplined mind, it was consuming him. He feared, or rather, he felt a vague worry for Gohan. The emotion he was experiencing could barely qualify as a heartfelt feeling, more a nostalgic memory of the concern that once moved him.

Ethan's hold tightened, and he pulled Piccolo towards him, so their chests were against one another. Piccolo had to look up into the other man's eyes, and what he saw there made him panic. Ethan had him, gripped securely in his hands, and his warm eyes were now calculating and cold, full with a clinical satisfaction. Ethan was in control, and he thrived on it. Watching his captive writhe in his grasp made him smile with achievement and, spurred on, he moved his face into Piccolo's. He caught the Namek's lips with his teeth and nudged Piccolo with his mouth, moving his hand to the back of his head. Sure that he had the Namek's attention; he pulled his head back, exposing his throat and collar bone. Moving down Piccolo's neck, he nestled at the base of his throat and before Piccolo could act, he bit down.

His eyes closed at the sensation and warm snakes of blood weaved down his chest, some being caught by his shirt, absorbed. He had expected pain, and perhaps revulsion, but only felt a mind reeling sort of sting. He wanted to fight it but couldn't, as his limbs would not respond. Lost in the experience, he remembered looking in the mirror and seeing the monster he refused to become. His eyes had glazed over in the reflection, and were silver. His body had shaken with desire and anger, the two emotions complementing one another. The man in the mirror exemplified everything he had worked against, everything that he had resisted. He had allowed that to happen, and any protest was now an insincere imitation of that resistance. He wanted to be close to Ethan, and despite the rational rant in his head, he needed him.

Ethan's head ripped back, his eyes silver and menacing. He let go of Piccolo, letting him fall to the ground, dazed and lost in thought. Ethan growled loudly, interrupted in his attack and was dragged back. Gohan dug his nails into the man's head and gripped his throat securely, pushing his thumbs in. Ethan snarled and raised his hands to attack but was unable to as Gohan squeezed harder, shouting. He hated that monster, it had robbed Piccolo from him and now he was bleeding his mentor dry. He wouldn't let this happen, even if he had to tie Piccolo up and keep him there.

Gohan was shocked when Ethan stopped struggling, and watched the man lay still with his eyes closed. He couldn't see the sharp metal that was reaching for him, and the hands which would kill him. Piccolo grabbed Gohan and yanked him back, moments before Ethan slashed about, intending to rip Gohan apart. The grass was eerily still where Gohan sat in Piccolo's hold, betraying no sign that nature was even present. He stared at Ethan when he sat up, teeth sharp and waiting, hands clenched in fury. His breathing was laboured but the Vampire managed to grind out his words.

"Let go of him"

Piccolo tried to hold on but his hands wouldn't obey him, and his mind rationalised his decision. If he let go, Ethan wouldn't hurt Gohan. He knew of course, when he let Gohan go that he was betraying the one thing that was still strong; trust. Big eyes looked up at him in disbelief and the pain was obvious in their watery bath. Ethan smirked, knowing that this time he had won. He walked over to Piccolo and, wrapping his arms around the Namek, lifted him up. To Gohan, Piccolo looked like a puppet, waiting for its master to mimic its movement, and speak his words. He clenched his jaw, unable to watch his friend slip into a comatose existence.

"Piccolo! Look at yourself!"

He answered, but his words were unconvinced.

"You need to leave"

"What?! I'm not leaving you here with that thing!"

Piccolo looked down, shame burning his cheeks. Was he replacing Gohan with a monster? He knew he was. But Gohan couldn't give him what he wanted; he could only do what was best for him. That wasn't enough, he needed Ethan. Ethan could provide what he desired. Ethan would supplement his addiction.

Gohan stood, his eyes watering and red. He looked at Piccolo, and saw the guilt laden in his expression. He watched Piccolo break the eye contact and inhaled angrily, furious at the Namek's weakened resolve. He was about to yell at his mentor when Ethan interceded, his voice rumbling.

"Doesn't it occur to you that when I found Piccolo, I knew where you were?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're hiding place is not very hidden. If I'm correct, you're people are being massacred as we speak"

Gohan's chest ceased its drumming, and his throat refused to allow his breath to leave his body. He had run here, from Capsule Corp over an hour ago. It would take at least ten minutes to return, if not fifteen. They would be dead, and he would arrive just in time to be slaughtered as well. Looking up at Piccolo, his eyes wide, he voiced a small cry. Piccolo only stared back, disbelief obvious in his eyes.

Gohan shot to his right, his feet hitting the ground so fast they seemed to barely scrape its surface. Gohan raced towards Capsule Corp, his heart already sure that he was going to find his friends strewn across the floor, bloodied. He already knew, despite the pleas that echoed in his head, that he was too late.

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	6. Butterfly

**Long update! But I hope it was worth it, this is a little longer than the previous chapters. Enjoy!**

**I don't own Dragonball Z or any of its characters or content.**

**Chapter six – Butterfly**

Gohan's feet throbbed in pain as he neared Capsule Corp, the darkness making dodging obstacles increasingly difficult. He could hear the creatures in the trees, waiting for him to stumble or slow and planning to pounce when he tumbled to the ground. He felt water well in his eyes and that familiar sting in his nose. His vision was slurred by the tears and as he ran, and he couldn't help but voice his pain in disjointed sobs. He would arrive and find all the people in his life murdered and their endless endeavour against evil mocked. The look in Piccolo's eyes, full of addiction and guilt, made Gohan want to scream. Every time his shoes touched the ground, he felt time slip away.

As the side of the building came into view, its pure white tarnished, Gohan nearly collided into the stone in an effort to rush inside. Hitting the door so hard it splintered, he thundered through the halls, his breath catching in his throat when his eyes met the floor. The tiles were in disarray and wet with blood, but more heart wrenching, was the soil mixed with it. They were already here. He yelled for his friends when he burst through the already ajar reinforced door, his desperation made him trip and nearly fall. When his eyes registered the scene, his eye lids widened unnaturally and he felt the stabbing of betrayal in his chest.

There were no monsters, no vampires lurking in the dark or savaging his parents and friends. The sitting room was empty. He frantically moved aside the table and chairs in search of possessions or blood. Flipping furniture on its side, he tore through the fabric. Stopping, he turned to the television, its screen cracked slightly. It was still registering the news channels, and filled the quiet with its monotonous tone. The news presenter was a well dressed woman with bright eyes and blonde hair. Her voice streamed out words in a traceless accent, each letter being pronounced with precision. He felt himself stare at the woman as she told him exactly what he didn't want to hear, with her hands clasped together in a practiced and polished manner.

"Europe, the first area to be attacked, has now lost almost 70 of its population either to the creatures themselves or to exposure as the Europeans headed north in search of refuge. Resources are becoming limited, especially within the military and civilian safe-zones. The remaining governments however, are optimistic that within the next month they can maximise defence and reduce casualties by up to 60. The United states have evacuated major cities, which are now dominated by the species, and hope to eradicate the race through surrounding barricades. There is still no explanation for the origins of the 'breed', a local name for the creatures, and governments are investigating the matter currently. Russia…"

Her voice halted abruptly for a second before resuming its regular pace. Gohan allowed himself a slight smile, and a small amount of relief calmed him. As he listened, he stared at her clasped hands and moving lips, and heard the same words leave her mouth. The entire report was repeated to him and he felt resentment crawl beneath his skin. The news station was out of service and repeating the same message, and could have been for a long time. Hope, he was now certain, was just a word he accidentally discovered in childhood, which he now categorised under the term "delusion".

Goku lay in the grass, its damp blades soaking the back of his shirt and occasionally making him shiver. He had fallen behind momentarily and had lost sight of the group within seconds, the creatures forcing them forward. Some raced by Goku, in pursuit, but he knew that it would only be a few seconds before they realised he was incapacitated. The warmth of blood was the only indicator they needed, and his heart was pumping enough out of him to attract a crowd. Closing his eyes against the rushing of his head, he considered sleeping a little. Before he could let his mind drift, he heard steps stride steadily towards him and when they halted just before his side, he swallowed. Opening his eyes, he didn't know whether to smile or to grimace.

Piccolo stood over Goku, his eyes silver and menacing in the grey light. With a blank expression, he stared into the Saiyan's eyes and saw the uncertainty there. Conflict filled the Namek's mind and, baring his fangs, he growled at Goku's distaste. Piccolo refused to be labelled a monster, and would never become one. He closed his eyes in despair, he couldn't fight it forever and he knew they wouldn't take the risk. If he left Goku here, he would win. He could watch them try to survive and fail, while giving in to temptation. It would be so easy, and he wanted to. Looking at Goku, he saw dark eyes challenge him and for a moment, he saw the face which had saved him so many times. He was in Goku's position, years before, when he had the chance to kill Piccolo.

He reached for Goku, sprawling his hand awkwardly and waited for the Saiyan to respond. He wouldn't become the monster, he had promised himself that. Goku's pale hand grasped Piccolo's and the Namek hoisted the other man up, supporting his weight with ease. Goku smiled his typical grin, and spoke as casually as the situation allowed.

"You know, for a minute there. I thought you were going to leave me"

"I was, for a minute."

Goku raised his brow at the blunt answer and smiled again, he had expected no answer from the usually stoic Namek but was pleased to hear one. He was relieved to hear the comical reply, it reminded him of a time when such comments were normal. He pointed out the direction of the others to Piccolo, and proceeded to walk, leaning on Piccolo for support.

Gohan stormed out of Capsule Corp, having searched nearly every room, but was forced to retreat back inside quietly. He tried to prop the broken door up without drawing attention, and crouched next to the door frame to listen. The road was empty only an hour ago but had soon become busy with movement. The creatures were gathered in the middle with some wandering almost aimlessly on the pavement and through the group. They appeared to be male and female, although he had only seen one up close. They were talking but he couldn't understand their language, if it was one, and they all spoke at once, making listening difficult.

Ethan stood taller than the rest, and bulkier. The others seemed agile and appeared in submission to him, waiting for his input in their discussion. He was not with the group in the middle and was instead, on the pavement simply ignoring their words and rushed movements. As Gohan tried to see his expression he leaned forward and Ethan turned his head in his direction. Reacting, Gohan shot back and hit a tile into the wall. The clatter drew the attention of some of the creatures, including Ethan, and Gohan's impulse didn't reach his limbs, his mind's fear paralysed his legs. As his heartbeat throbbed in his ears, reddening his face and shortening his breath, he moved to run. His body however, collided into another, and slender arms encircled him.

Bulma's fingers were working quickly, her body darting in a different direction once one task was completed. When three short beeps sounded, a longer more piercing one alarmed. The motion censor and blockade was now in place, and the group could finally stop their panicked hustle. She sat down, her blue hair filthy with dirt, and thumbed the golden butterfly she wore around her neck. Chi-chi was sat on the floor, with Goten securely in her grip, not at all convinced that the defences were going to hold. Tears had dried their continuous misery in curved lines along her cheeks, and she couldn't muster the effort to stop sobbing. Goku had fallen behind, but Vegeta had grabbed hold of her and practically dragged her feet miles ahead, leaving her injured husband behind.

Without making a sound, feet padded towards 18's back as she sat on the ground, just inches away from one of the censor consoles. Its knees touched the floor as it began to crawl, and being as covert as possible it observed the metal detector. Blue eyes, glinting with thought, quietly calculated the chances of silencing the censor's noise, when activated, before it would reach the ears of the humans. Looking at the gang of survivors, he noticed a difference in race between some of the seated circle, and attempted to judge their hearing ability. It was several minutes before he could be sure not to alarm the quick moving group, and within a moment his delicate hands had deactivated the device. Looking around, iced sky eyes staring intently, the creature gazed into the darkness.

Ethan stood with his arms crossed, his coat flitting about his legs, and nodded to the man who had tinkered with the human technology. With that, the silent attacker stood and walked back towards the trees, without ever making a sound. The other side of the censor detection ring was being watched intently by another creature that crouched on the floor, her long dark hair whispering around her eyes. Just in front of her, Vegeta grimaced at the damp soil beneath his cold feet before jumping to alertness when he heard footsteps and coughing. When Ethan heard the rustling of leaves behind him, and the rasp of Goku's laboured breath, his lips curved into a smile. Piccolo was walking Goku into a trap.

Piccolo walked slowly towards the group, but was forced to stop when their stares became threatening. Holding Goku upright, he looked to the Saiyan for support, knowing that his friends no longer trusted him. Goku nodded and smiled towards them, and limped forwards away from Piccolo's grip, leaving the Namek to stand alienated from the group. As Bulma reached to deactivate the sensors she realised the glowing red light was no longer lit and instead a pale blue hue illuminated the console. Seeing her panic, Vegeta, 18 and Krillan quickly surrounded the gang and gestured for Goku to join them. Piccolo saw that there was a problem and stepped back, suspiciously retreating from sight.

Ethan looked at Piccolo, and his obsidian eyes glanced back. He had not hidden himself from the Namek when he had strolled by with Goku and, as he had intended, Piccolo had not raised the alarm. Green lids slid over dark eyes, as he pondered his situation. Watching his friends, illuminated by blue light, cluster together and glance around nervously made him look away. They had been so strong, they were undefeated. They had personally glued fragments of the world together and sought to nurture it, endeavoured to protect it. They had all believed in forever, and the fantasy of being the Earth's caretaker.

Now they were cowering in a powerless struggle, desperate to survive, and Piccolo was ashamed. The shame he felt wasn't because of their weakness, however, or their defeat, it was because it was his fault. He had single-handedly murdered mankind, and its last-chance guardians. His teeth ground against one another and he promised himself, he wouldn't become that monster. He wouldn't.

Breathing in and straightening out, he walked towards Goku and the others. His strong shoulders shrouded Vegeta's small frame and Krillan was swallowed by his size. Piccolo's strength was evident in his physique and as he confidently strode towards them, all except Vegeta and Goku stepped back. His eyes glazed over with silver and his teeth grew sharp against his tongue. Stopping just before Goku, who stood at the centre of their organic barricade, He turned to face Ethan. His dark shirt was ripped in places and his jeans were torn and bloodied, but his courage wasn't broken. With a flick of his hands, Piccolo released the same metallic blades from his hands that Ethan had, and once they reached their final length he clenched his fists. Growling, he leapt towards Ethan in a flurry of movement and silver.

Gohan had awoken abruptly. His eyes squinted against the dark, and he rolled onto his side. Hearing footsteps, and hurried movement he absent-mindedly spoke.

"Could you please be a little louder Videl, I'm sure the neighbours are having trouble hearing you"

He assumed she was dressing for work and exhaled heavily in exasperation. Keeping his eyes closed, he thought of what she looked like when their relationship was pleasant, and they spoke to one another. Her skin was soft and appeared to be almost luminescent in the sun, her heels clicking on the floor before the beep of her unlocking car allowed her to climb in. Holding Pan's hand as she waved to her mother, and watching the car drive away, just as dramatic as her temperament. His eyes shot open as he bolted upright. Videl was dead.

The room was dark, and he was lying on the floor. He was in pain, alone and couldn't see. Instinctively, his hand shot out into the air as he stood, reaching for something to lean on. Instead of a cabinet or table, his hand landed in another and the cool skin chilled his. Without hesitation, angry and flustered, he grabbed the hand and drew the person toward him. Blue eyes sternly stared into his own, and he was unnerved by the creature's confidence. His voice growled out his words.

"What are you?"

Its deep and frozen eyes didn't waver at Gohan's intimidation, which only furthered his fury.

"Who are you? Where's Piccolo?"

It looked away, not bothering to answer his question. It easily ripped its hand from Gohan's and pushed the half-Saiyan onto the floor. Its dark clothing allowed his figure to be swallowed by the dark, and Gohan couldn't distinguish its frame. When it finally answered, the words were well pronounced and educated, making Gohan's brows furrow.

"The man you seek is currently in need of your assistance. You must leave and protect your species from its near extinction. Humanity will survive this; your race however, must not be allowed to die"

"What? I don't understand. Where is Piccolo? Why does he need me?"

It opened the door to the room, allowing the moonlight to filter in and illuminate its well-dressed figure. The creature choked a panicked sound when it moved its body towards what was on the other side of the door. Ethan's eyes were vibrating silver, and his pale skin was smeared with purple and red. His menacing stare complimented his intimidating height and sharpened teeth. The edges of his face was bright with moonlight, leaving the rest of his frame in darkness. He stood a foot above the creature who was shocked into paralysis, and as Ethan looked towards Gohan, he threw an object towards the half-Saiyan.

"You know Gohan; flying things don't live long without their wings"

He recognised it immediately. Red with blood, it clattered to the ground. The golden butterfly gleamed in the half-light.

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	7. Intoxicate

**Sorry for the long update! Here it is, although it's not as detailed as previous chapters, it does explain a little. Hope you like it. **

**Thank you for all of your reviews!**

**I do not own Dragonball Z, or any of its characters or contents**

**Chapter seven - Intoxicate**

Ethan had disappeared with the blue eyed creature almost immediately, leaving Gohan to register his cold words. His dark eyes glanced down, watering with regret as he stepped forward gently. Leaning down, he thumbed the golden trinket with his left hand, smoothing it with his fingers to expose the pure metal. He turned the butterfly over and wiped the blood from the butterfly's wings and read the engraving. He rolled the letters over his lips as he spoke out loud.

"Bulma Briefs"

His eyes adopted a calculating, murderous look when he stood with the butterfly grasped in his hand. Dark eyebrows furrowed with anger and he hastily blinked enraged tears from his eyes. The room was dark and empty, the only light being the moon's white hue funnelling through the door. As he walked forward, he realised that for the first time in his life, he was truly helpless. Bulma was hurt or dead, his friends and family butchered. He was losing Piccolo, and amidst the mess he found himself wishing he could exchange everything just to have them back.

--Woods--

Piccolo's blood was escaping his body in rivets, snaking its way down his forearms and legs, pooling in the earth where the soil hungrily absorbed it. He opened his eyes, the dark making his vision nothing but shadows and the faint glint of light which occasionally touched the trees. Rolling over, he found himself face to face with the closed eyes of Bulma, red tracing her cheeks and lips. He reached out, refusing to entertain the possibility that she was dead, and wrapped his fingers around her delicate shoulder. When he opened his mouth, he was surprised at the vulnerability and emotion shaking in his voice.

"Bulma? Bulma wake up, Bulma!"

She grumbled slightly when he yelled, making the Namek breathe out in relief. He was the reason they were in this situation, and he wouldn't allow anyone the privilege of making him the monster that let them die.

He heard the voice of Goku in the distance, and the harsh responses of Vegeta, who despite their dire condition, was still managing to retort to the other Saiyan. His mind immediately thought of Gohan, who was no where in sight and as far as Piccolo knew, was hurt. He swallowed when he felt his eyes sting, and knowing that now of all times wasn't fit for an emotional outburst he opened his eyes stubbornly and let the moisture dry. He had felt so close to Gohan, but with every passing moment, it diminished more, leaving only tatters of the bond they once had. His irrational and instinctive actions had damaged their friendship, and Piccolo knew that now Gohan would never want to rekindle what they had. He whispered his words as he stared into the constellations that painted the dark sky.

"I'm sorry Gohan"

"You can tell him that when you see him Piccolo, until then, we need you on your feet!"

Goku's loud voice was unmistakably cheerful and optimistic, and with a wide grin he lent Piccolo his hand. Piccolo looked nervous for a moment, heavily aware that the trust the two warriors once had was now fading. Hesitantly, he placed his slender hand in the Saiyan's and allowed the shorter man to pull him to his feet. He winced as pain coursed through his abdomen and chest, alarming him to his injuries. Once stood, he held his stomach while he observed his surroundings.

Chi chi was relatively unscathed, and was seated on the ground holding a bleeding Goten in her hands. The young man was hurt but as far as Piccolo could tell, the wounds were superficial. Trunks and Pan were only a metre away while Krillan and 18 were talking to Goku, questioning their next move and the shortage of supplies. The sound of the group was overwhelming and Piccolo suddenly realised their exaggerated movement and boisterous conversation.

"Be quiet!"

Everyone halted in their steps, even Chi chi silenced her senseless mumbling. Piccolo was motionless, tensed, and listening intently. His ebony eyes darted left and right as his pointed ears twitched, trying to detect any sign of life in the surrounding trees. His shocked expression was first noticed by Krillan, who immediately asked what was wrong. Piccolo didn't have a moment to even consider the small man's question as he raced towards the foliage on his left. His eyes assumed their silver sheen and his fangs extended to their impressive length as he jumped onto the figure that was running towards them.

He collided into the other person, but his wrists were firmly held as he was pushed onto his back. Piccolo's large frame was easily overcome and he growled as his back crashed into the ground. His breath halted for a second when he looked into the dark eyes above him, and he felt himself calm at the sight. Gohan smiled down at Piccolo but his marked face was stern and commanding. Piccolo was taken aback by the half-Saiyan's change in demeanour but was too surprised by Gohan's sudden appearance to contemplate it. His breathing became laboured as his eyes returned to its solid onyx and he weakened under Gohan's grip. His voice was strong but faltered when it whispered.

"Gohan"

He stared down at his mentor with a soft expression once Piccolo had succumbed to unconsciousness, the obvious threat of the large Namek now minimal. He leant down and moved his cheek next to Piccolo's, opening his mouth to whisper into the elegant Jade ear.

"I'm going to take care of you Piccolo"

With that, he leant back and looked at the group, relief washing over him at the sight of his friends moving and talking. He smiled when he saw them, and grinned when his mother yelled his name in glee. He looked back at Piccolo, and stroked the Namek's cheek with the fingers of his right hand as his eyes adopted their usual gentle look. He leaned on his knee and stood, moving towards the others to make sure they were alright. His head was reeling with the thoughts which raced through it, clearly aware that they had been lucky this time.

--Sun rise--

The soft light streamed onto the Z senshi as they tinkered and spoke, planning their next move. Scientific equipment cluttered the grass as Bulma organised her thoughts before experimenting and theorising. They knew that the creatures would not leave the safety of darkness and day light was the only relief they had. Using the time to his advantage Piccolo crossed his legs when he sat, closing his eyes. He had meditated for only a few minutes before Gohan interrupted his thinking, with a hesitant look in his eyes.

"Piccolo? Is it ok if I speak with you?"

The Namek smirked, comforted by Gohan's expected curiosity.

"I can't remember a time when you asked for my permission to speak Gohan"

He chuckled slightly at his emerald coloured friend, but the kind sound was soon replaced by Gohan's certain words.

"I know that you and Ethan have some kind of connection. You must have an idea why we can't use our Chi?"

Piccolo seemed to judge the question for a moment, and considered deceiving the half-Saiyan and claiming he didn't know. He wondered that if the information he knew fell into the wrong hands it could be used against them and he was well aware of Gohan's trusting nature. After a few moments, he reasoned that Gohan deserved to know.

"The race intoxicated the water supply, before they attacked, with a chemical which suppresses energy. Despite their animalistic tendencies, they're quite clever"

"So we were drugged? How long will the effects last?"

"He didn't say"

Gohan's feet nudged the grass beneath him, his dark hair illuminated by the sun. He continued his line of questioning, but this time with a different matter in mind.

"Are you okay?"

Piccolo didn't respond, and simply looked at the demi-Saiyan with the answer written in his expression. He was far from alright, and was going to need a great deal of support when the night falls again. Gohan stepped closer to Piccolo, forcing the Namek to stand in order to face him. Suddenly suspicious, Gohan asked his mentor another question.

"How are you able to be in the sunlight, while the others can't?"

Piccolo smiled at Gohan's words, proud of the half-Saiyan's perception.

"They can survive in the sun, but are more suited to the darkness. Here, we have the advantage"

Gohan narrowed his eyes at his mentor's use of the word "we" and contemplated Piccolo's perspective. He was infuriated with his friend's situation and felt compelled to take action. _'I can't believe what they've done to you Piccolo. It's not fair.' _He wanted to be close to his Piccolo but kept his distance, knowing it wouldn't be well received, _'I wonder if there's a cure', _his thoughts stumbled on as he stared into Piccolo's obsidian depths.

Piccolo placed a hand on Gohan's shoulder, disturbing his wandering mind, and spoke with a deep, resounding quality.

"Thank you Gohan"

"No problem. Just promise me one thing"

"What?"

"Next time you think of joining the other side, reconsider"

Piccolo's sharp teeth could be seen when he smiled, making Gohan grin with him. Their conversation was soon interrupted by Bulma's bright and supervisory voice, as she exclaimed to the group.

"Right! I think I've found a way of detecting them. Their energy signature is significantly different from ours and once one of those signatures enter within half a mile of us, they will appear on this radar!"

Goku congratulated her on the invention and asked her to test it first, suggesting Piccolo as a test subject. Once the device was switched on, the black screen remained blank for a few seconds before one dot of light flashed, in the middle. Goku yelled in surprise at the success and his cheeks spread in an effort to move out of the way of his characteristic grin. Chi chi joined in the small celebration and announced that she was going to cook a hot meal, knowing that all of them could do with some decent food.

Piccolo was warmed by the apparent happiness of his friends, but knew it would be short lived and would probably come to another abrupt and bloody end. He watched Gohan walk towards his mother, who was gathering food capsules, and saw that his student was content. He felt absurd in the scene of smiling people, and was unimpressed with his alien energy signature.

His thoughts took a more serious route once he remembered the events of the previous night, _'I wonder what Ethan is planning? He could have easily killed us all, so why leave?' _His spine tingled when he thought of Ethan, memories of their intimacy overwhelming his thoughts. The other man's hands were so soft, his skin unscathed and creamy in colour. His silver blue eyes were intense and crystal like in detail, making Piccolo want to stare and eventually fall into them. They had been in the soil, after the chase, and Piccolo had wanted nothing more than to be close to the other man.

Piccolo became angry at his own indulgence, his desire for Ethan making a mockery of his determination. _'Gohan is the only person I care about, the only person I-', _he stopped himself before he committed himself to those words. He wouldn't be subject to such an emotion and was in no position to feel. _'I have no right to feel'._

--5 pm--

They had travelled for hours but hadn't covered as much ground as they intended as several of them were injured and all were tired. They had reached the end of the woods and with Piccolo's help, had navigated themselves to a place where they creatures would be reluctant to near.

The ocean was typically calm, with only a few waves crashing at the shore, a small demonstration of its splendour. The setting sun painted the moving water, leaving the sea a mixture of blue, red and orange. Birds were encircling far into its depths, and the sound of wildlife echoed in Piccolo's sensitive ears, reminding him of his love for the Earth. _'Nature will find a way of pulling through this', _he slid the equipment he carried along the black sleeves of his shirt until they awkwardly fell to the floor. The sand was warm, he could feel its heat radiate through the air, and the sea was unusually spectacular. They all settled down by the safety of the water, setting up their new defences and placing sensors further away, effectively forming a two wall barricade.

Although Piccolo was confident that the creatures wouldn't venture near such a vast expanse of water, he knew it wouldn't stop Ethan. Their leader was not vulnerable to such insecurities and would easily disable Capsule Corp's technology without being detected. He had not told anyone, knowing that if they felt secure it would ease their minds, _'after all, it's not like they can stop him.' _He looked towards Gohan, and watched the young man help out, his strong arms flexing with his movement. Piccolo could tell that Gohan was being secretive about something, and he was certain it concerned Ethan.

The sun was setting as they settled down for sleep, taking turns to ensure their safety. Piccolo was seated with his legs crossed, quietly observing Gohan fiddle with something. It glinted in the light, arousing Piccolo's curiosity, causing Gohan to retract his hand at the slight movement. The half-Saiyan looked at Piccolo nervously, but with a serious expression, silently informing the Namek that he wasn't going to speak about it. Piccolo made a noise of disapproval and returned to his attempts at meditation, which were becoming increasingly difficult.

--11 pm--

Gohan was awake, his eyes unnervingly wide and observant, in comparison to Vegeta's hooded ones. The rest of the Z senshi were asleep, leaving the two warriors to raise the alarm if necessary. His fingers fidgeted with thought as he rolled the golden butterfly in his hand, wondering why Ethan had given him the trinket and effectively lured him to the safety his friends. His dark eyes were concentrated when he placed the butterfly in his pocket but softened when he turned to look at his mentor.

He had found it quite amusing when Piccolo had literally fallen on his side when meditating, exhaustion claiming the Namek, forcing the large man into slumber. His arms were still fluid green in colour, the pink armour had not returned, and the same was evident on his shoulders. The dark jeans Piccolo was wearing fitted him well, and Gohan thought that the outfit complemented the emerald of his skin. Lying on his side, the contours of the man's physique were illuminated by the fire's soft light, showing him to be more slender than Gohan had imagined. _'He's quite slim, I wonder if he's drinking enough', _he looked at Piccolo's face and saw the calm in his features, his antennae delicate against his skin. _'He looks so…beautiful, a little like those creatures I've seen in fantasy books. I wonder what he'd say about that'_, he smiled to himself as he imagine Piccolo's reaction. _'I think I'm falling in love with you Piccolo'._

**Please Read and Review! Much appreciated! Update soon**.


	8. This Moment, is Perfect

**Just a warning, this chapter is rather distressing and upsetting. It seems quite dark but it preludes the rest of the story, which is developing into quite a complex plot! Thank you for all your reviews, they are making writing this story possible! **

**I do not own Draganball Z or any of its characters of contents. **

**Chapter 8 – This moment, is perfect**

--4 Am--

Gohan had only let his eyes slip for a second but once the eyelids hit, his entire body strummed with exhaustion, he couldn't resist the temptation to let his mind wander. Vegeta had fallen asleep only a few hours previously, obviously relying on the younger man to stare into the night alone. Unable to fathom the energy to wake anyone up, he allowed the ridiculous thoughts that his sleep deprived mind conjured claim his consciousness. His dark hair bobbed as he slumped on his side against the sand, his breathing rapidly slowing and regulating.

Piccolo heard the gentle slam of Gohan's body hitting the sand and opened his eyes to see the half-Saiyan's smooth skin reflect the dying embers of the fire. Piccolo's eyes widened when energy surged through him, making his pupils dilate and his veins rush the blood to his body. He rolled onto his back, the dark shirt glittering with grains of sand, and struggled to control his breathing. The searing pain of his teeth sharpening and his eyes adopting their silver hue was consuming his tolerance quickly, and within a few seconds he felt that control slip. _'No! I can't, Gohan!' _The words didn't reach his lips as he stood, and for a moment, he wanted to scream. He looked at the sleeping group, and felt a passionate hatred eat at the back of his eyes. He wanted to hurt them.

Standing there, with the ocean crashing behind him, he fought with the violence that threatened to bubble forth. He closed his eyes in exasperation, knowing that Ethan would soon find him and encourage the animal inside, making him the heartless creature he loathed. _'I have to control myself, if he finds me, if he…'_ he didn't complete the thought, his darker nature eliminating his grasp on reality. An immediate disembodied feeling made his skin tingle, and his head roll back and forth, inexplicably urged to rock. He tried to raise his arms to his head, in an effort to still the obsessive action, but the sensible side of his brain was disconnected. He watched on, a prisoner of his own mind, as the evil within wracked his body.

His finger nails looked excessively sharp and transparent against the non existent glass he was looking through, scratching at it in a desperate attempt to break through. He imagined that to anybody looking on, he would look like a mime artist, enacting some elaborate routine, fearing the imaginary. His green skin looked vivid against the pale sand, which was darkening as the fire whispered to its death, exaggerating the climaxing fear which enveloped him. The violent emotion seared his veins as it raced through him, reaching his extremities only to flood back towards his heart, which was thudding, making his vision bounce with every rapid thud. He could not control it, and he was terrified.

Piccolo's thrashing against his paralysis ceased when his body moved, he felt the slow realisation of hope brighten his features. Convinced that his struggling was pummelling through, he assumed the erratic attack. As his body slammed against the invisible barricade he felt his skin bruise, and bleed at his determined onslaught. Mid-way through his next collision, he halted abruptly, staring into the sand that was a metre further than it should. His ears twitched as he listened, and he heard it again. His arms fell to his wounded side, the fingers uncurling and hanging limp. Through his contorted vision, which was further than he could reach, he could see the figure clumsily move towards him. It was Pan.

"Pan! No! Get away!"

His screaming voice was futile; he knew she couldn't hear his soundless words. Her wide eyes were dark, but full of thought and moist with youth, watering at every instant. She looked at Piccolo, with that foolish trust children are so known for, and the big, endearing orbs were filling with adoration. He was taken aback by the cool that snaked its way down his cheeks and when he raised his hand to investigate, he snarled. Quickly forgetting about the emotional demonstration, he turned his watering eyes to Gohan's daughter. _'Please don't come near me, Pan. Please'_ he felt the sentence spin in his head, each letter rolling its sound, taking a life time to be heard. Despite his echoing plea, which was making his eyes burn, he knew that she wouldn't hear him. He saw her life slip with every step she took, every time her small feet crashed to the sand, her small shoes barely large enough to provide any balance. She stumbled, the sand kicking and spraying slightly, dry and powdered. The sea was crashing, but Piccolo couldn't hear the water's icy roar.

Her dark hair swayed with the movement, falling in her face, but not enough to obscure her large and innocent eyes.

"Innocent"

He spoke but his voice had lost its commanding quality, instead, a hopeless and lengthy tone resounded. The tears he was so ashamed of were now gliding along his prominent cheekbones before streaming downwards, in rivets. His emerald skin was flushed purple in his panic, and he felt futile, his muscled physique now obsolete. She was closer, obviously enthused and determined to reach her father's friend. _'How old was she? Five?'_

She stopped. Content and accomplished at her little adventure, she smiled.

--Dawn--

"She was only five"

Vegeta's voice penetrated the silence, thrusting its contemptuous tone into the quiet.

"She was young!"

He spoke again, this time full of anger and choking. He was staring at Gohan, willing him to respond at his outburst, feeling the guilt throb in at the forefront of his mind. He had fallen asleep so quickly, dreams enrapturing his tired mind and lulling him to a contented rest. His dark angered eyes looked up from its stare into the sand, the edges red with a teary fury.

Gohan had been stunned. His expression blank, and his stare constant. He knew, the moment he let his eyes slip closed, that he shouldn't have. His body was still, betraying no emotion but shock, and the frothing guilt which dragged his features into jaded, empty canvas.

He felt the soft sweep of the cold air tickle his fingers, which were frozen in place, unable to fight the surprise which was still evident in his eyes.

--Minutes earlier--

The alarm had woken them, the loud sound reaching an unbearable pitch until Bulma leaped to deactivate them. She had silenced the siren but could not see the creature which tripped it. The entire group had stood in bewilderment until Chi-chi shrieked with the expected horror at the sand just ahead of her. The early morning haze making the beach a dull blue, it was almost surreal in its colour, the scene cold and captured. The sea had left the shore, retreating to its unknown depths, leaving the sand an endless portrait of wet and dry grey. Goku had grabbed Chi chi when she emitted the high squeal, and Krillan had yelled out in surprise.

Gohan's eyes extended to an unbelievable expanse of white when he realised the stone like image before him. He felt the top of his nose sting alarmingly, and his cheeks numb. Her shoes had been torn off, strewn across the sand as if thrown off in an effort to run into the water. Just a few metres ahead, where the trail of black led, was his daughter.

She was lying on her side, but actual definition of her frame was impossible. Her dark hair was shining in the clouded light, a blue colour in the dawn. His beautiful daughter, who had made losing everything like losing nothing, was so silently still. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. He didn't want to.

Vegeta's voice was the first to announce its attendance at the scene, but was not answered. Gohan couldn't hear the words that his ears were so numb to. He slowly turned his head to the left, after minutes of stunned motionless disbelief. As his vision followed him, unbearably delayed and scared, he saw his mother and father embrace one another, their tears unmistakable. He continued to move, with each moment hoping and grasping at the possibility that he was wrong. His eyes settled on the sand, where he intended, and he swallowed the fit of rage and upset which clotted in his throat. Piccolo wasn't there.

--Forrest some distance away--

Piccolo was sat, his back pushed against the transparent prison wall. He wasn't really aware of how long he had stared into the foliage ahead of him, not understanding why he could see the road ahead despite facing away from it. He supposed the entire concept of being trapped inside his head wasn't simple, and certainly wouldn't make sense. The purple blood which had steadily stopped its flow had stopped entirely, allowing him to clot and repair. The tears he had cried had also ceased, leaving nothing but dry eyes scratching whenever his body forced him to blink, making them a faint violet as they became horribly bloodshot.

He had painfully etched some extra wounds into his chest and arms while he stood, watching when he approached her. They had deepened when he felt, disembodied, but still the heat of her skin had warmed his hands when he grabbed her. Like the faint feel of a fire, too far to do much but remind you of its distance. She had realised then, she had seen, her eyes expanding and becoming impossibly wide. That childish glee turning into fear, so displayed and uncontrolled. He had closed his eyes in that moment, raking claws down his arms in an effort to erase the image from the back of his eyelids.

Looking ahead, he could see that he was running, but he wasn't aware of the destination. _'Probably Ethan'_ his mind concluded, cold and operating on nothing but blood flow. He remembered opening his eyes, only to smack them closed in horror. Her open eyes, they were so bright and trusting. _'Just like Gohan.'_

Gohan. His mind dwelled on the thought. The moisture of his eyes suddenly threw its existence into tears as they discreetly slid past his cheeks, slowly, before accelerating once they had passed his cheekbone. He felt his feet hitting the soil beneath him as her ran, the ground becoming more solid as the seconds flew by, thinking of Gohan and his young daughter. He felt the air rush by his drying cheeks, his pupils resuming their life like appearance as his feet paced. Seeing his own hands ahead of him, swinging with the movement, he came to an abrupt stop. His hands rose in shock and the jade colour made awareness crash into his head. Standing still, he felt the control return, and the blood that was strumming through his veins warm his frozen skin. Staring down at his fingers, they were red with blood, dirty with sand and numb with pain.

**I know this chapter is distressing and dark, but I promise things will make sense soon as the story develops. I'm sorry Pan lovers! Please Read and Review! Thank you.**


	9. Love is not a Victory March

**Next chapter up! Hope this makes a little more sense**

**Thank you for all your reviews, they really are helping the story progress. Just a note, the dragonballs and Dande will be approached in later chapters.**

**I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters or contents**

**Chapter 9 – Love is not a victory march**

Piccolo's eyes clouded with emotion as his composure collapsed. He had run until his feet bled, not realising that his boots were missing, and felt the familiar ache of exhaustion strum through his legs. He fell to his knees, and yelped in pain when his weight pushed them into the ground, suddenly aware of his injured condition. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around his chest as he leaned forward, feeling the urge to expel the contents of his stomach and chest. All he managed to do, after a few seconds of lurching forward, was cough up blood. His eyes were half closed, and his skin glimmered with sweat and the purple of blood which was leaking out in various places.

Looking around, he couldn't distinguish his location. It was mainly fields and a few clustered trees here and there, with fences and walls partitioning ownership. There were no animals, as far as he could see, and this made him wonder for a moment, before reason crashed into his forehead. _'They have been eaten. By those monsters'_, his mind's voice said it with disdain before suddenly adding to the sentiment, with a self-loathing quality, _'them, or us'_.

He was knelt in that position for a long time, his mind refusing to allow any kind of sense and his body unable to move. The sun was nearly high in the sky, illuminating his emerald skin and highlighting the health of the surrounding vegetation. _'At least the Earth will survive this'_, his hope was soon demolished as he thought of Gohan, and the efforts the young man had made in his life to protect the forever endangered planet. _'He hates me; he's going to kill me'_

He flinched when he remembered the night, and the soft illumination of her wide eyes, brimming with innocence. He smacked his eyes shut in repulsion, he had murdered her. His sharp talons ground into his sides, the fluid emerald colour soon mixing with violet rivers. _'I didn't kill her!'_

"Yes you did"

Piccolo opened his eyes in astonishment, his breath halting. His lips remained still in shock.

'_Gohan?'_

--The Beach--

The group had not moved since Pan's death, the mourning continuing into midday. Krillan and Eighteen had picked her lifeless body from the sand, and placed her in a more considerate position. Her wounds were extensive, and she looked, in Goku's opinion, massacred. It had been so difficult, so painful, for him to look at her. She was motionless, and only imitated the vibrant child she had been, making Goku's eyes water. Gohan had disappeared, in pursuit of Piccolo, some time ago. Obviously unable to accept his daughter's death, and perhaps hoped that when he returned, he would hear her soft, wondrous voice echo in his ears.

Goku turned away from his granddaughter, and felt loathing for himself. A week ago, he was one of the strongest fighters in the world; now he could only run, and watch while his loved ones were murdered. _'In cold blood! She didn't even live long enough to do anything wrong!'_ His temper accumulated as he looked back at her, his heartache making his chest wrench in pain.

--Piccolo--

His eyes were bloodshot, their violet hue framed by the purple outline around his lids, which were open in shock. His breath had clawed to a halt in his throat, his body refusing to exhale in fear of disturbing the silence. His claws were embedded in his sides and as he stared at the man before him, he felt their pressure increase. The fear he felt was incredible, he had not experienced such an emotion in his entire lifetime. He shook, with anticipation and anxiety.

Gohan stood, his fists clenched and his body tensed. The glare in his dark eyes made Piccolo want to recoil, it was unreal on Gohan's usually kind features, and the anger which consumed them made them widen. His dilated pupils strummed with danger, the strong emotion making his face harden and adopt a violence Piccolo had never seen on his student. He glared into his mentor and his stare made Piccolo's eyes water with pain.

He slowly walked towards the Namek, and as his shoes stepped along the grass they didn't waver in their pace. When he reached Piccolo, the Namek was still kneeling on the floor with his arms wrapped tightly against his chest. Piccolo had stopped looking at Gohan when the half-Saiyan had moved, his eyes lowering their gaze to the soft, breeze blown blades of vegetation on the ground.

Gohan stood, barely a few inches from the emerald coloured warrior. He raised his fist and punched the Namek in the face, making his body roughly collide with the ground, landing on his bleeding side. He closed his eyes as Gohan reached for him again, this time pummelling him into the soil, ripping open his half healed wounds and bruising the skin which wasn't already marred. His eyes squeezed shut against the blows as he lay limp, allowing the younger man to beat him. Gohan yelled as he hit his friend, screaming in pain and fury.

The occasional sounds Piccolo made were whimper like, and unlike the once strong man, making Gohan's onslaught more emotionally charged and bloodthirsty. He drew his arms to his chest, in an effort to protect himself as the blows became stronger and faster, his body failing to recover fast enough for him to act. He opened his eyes then, in time for Gohan to raise his hand in yet another punch, his hand curling into a bloodied fist. The half-Saiyan halted, looking down at Piccolo's abused body and the Namek's once passionate eyes adopt a vacant, defeated look.

His eyes watered involuntarily as he stared down at his mentor's broken gaze, and he felt his anguish boil into sobs in his throat. His hand fell to his side and his body shook with upset as he looked at Piccolo. He raised his hand and hesitantly neared it towards the Namek, nervously, and with the disbelief he felt wracking his fingers. He touched Piccolo's side, immediately drenching his hand in the purple flood which was streaming from his mentor. Panic soon consumed his thoughts as his hands flew to try and stop the bleeding, frantically pushing against his skin. His hands were being covered in the violet of Piccolo's blood, and as he tried to prevent its escape he realised it was leaving his body faster than he could move.

He raised his hand to Piccolo's face, tentatively touching his distinguished cheekbones, and looking into the Namek's dark eyes. He roughly embraced his friend, and tried to lift the larger man upright, in an attempt to encourage movement and reassure his own anxiety. His eyes were now drowned in tears as he desperately talked to Piccolo, his voice heavy with emotion.

"I'm sorry Piccolo, I'm sorry. I know it wasn't you, I know it wasn't. I just…I…Piccolo please! Don't leave me, don't"

His sobs were becoming louder and clotted in his throat as he spoke. Piccolo wasn't moving, and he pressed his fingers against his throat to find the heartbeat, which would have been so strong. He held his fingers there, waiting for the thud. His eyes closed in his extraordinary pain.

"Piccolo! Please, please breathe! I need you. I love you!"

He kept his fingers there, against Piccolo's throat. For a long time he waited, with his hand firmly against his skin, for the Namek's heart to beat.

When he retrieved his hand, it was soaked in warmth and the remnants of Piccolo's bloodstream. He was stunned for a moment, and held his motionless and limp mentor in his arms, looking at the Namek's hollow eyes as they stared upwards, with no destination in mind. He was shocked for a moment when a thought suddenly occurred to him. 'Has he even eaten? Been near water?' The Namek's slim frame was obviously devoid of nutrients, his bones protruding unnaturally from his exposed and bloodied chest. He quietly ran his fingers along the larger man's chest, tears walking their steady path down his cheeks as he felt the vulnerability of his mentor.

His hand shot back in surprise, and a choked sob escaped his throat when Piccolo moved. He dropped the Namek in surprise, confusion and hope fighting for dominance in his mind. Piccolo twitched, and his fingers moved slightly. He immediately moved his hands to his mentor's and searched for any sign of warmth and stared at Piccolo, waiting for his chest to rise and fall. He watched, his hope waning as the seconds passed, and as he did he felt a familiar disappointment and anguish eat at him.

Piccolo inhaled sharply, and opened his eyes. He blinked a few times before he could register Gohan's stunned and smiling face. He felt incredibly tired, and the pain of his body made him want to spasm and cry out. Gohan immediately shot his hand out towards his mentor and smoothed his hand along the jade cheek, relief flooding his consciousness.

"Piccolo! You're alive! You're…"

He was unable to complete his sentence as he thought of his daughter. He was holding and caring for the man that killed her, that ripped her apart. Yet, despite his revulsion and sudden horror, he couldn't force his fingers to let go. He cried into his mentor's neck, his hands securely fixed onto the larger man. He had wanted to murder Piccolo, desired more than anything, to make him suffer the way Pan had. As he shed his horror onto Piccolo's skin, he felt his passion for Piccolo overwhelm his vengeance. Lifting his head, tears still pouring from his eyes, he spoke with strained but soft words.

"I love you Piccolo. I will never forgive you, but I will always love you"

Piccolo was surprised at the smaller man's words, but the shock barely reached his eyes as exhaustion made listening and thinking strenuous. He struggled to speak and his words were disjointed and quiet.

"I…I'm sorry Gohan. I love you, but…I can't…I can't let you love me"

Gohan creased his brow, unwilling to believe Piccolo, and confused at the meaning of the Namek's words. Suddenly, it occurred to him, Piccolo had murdered his daughter. That would never change. 'Can you change?' His eyes welled with emotion when he thought of Pan, and what Piccolo had done.

"I won't let you become the monster Piccolo"

Although his words were said with determination, his conviction in the sentiment was absent. He closed his eyes against the thoughts in his head, revenge and anger bubbling in his mind. Piccolo had already become the monster. And with self loathing he realised, that he was in love with what he hated most.

--Ethan--

Standing tall, above the members of his race, Ethan commanded the attention of his people. He had watched the events between Piccolo and Gohan, and once Piccolo had returned to consciousness, Ethan had immediately returned to his hordes. Driven by an intense emotion, one which had consumed his ability to think or reason, he had thundered through the forestry away from the Namek. He didn't understand the feelings which coursed through him, making his pale skin throb, and he was quickly becoming infuriated.

He raised his voice as he spoke, the foreign words flowing from his lips, strong and sure. He was going to accelerate their attentions, and move their invasion forward. His eyes adopted their silver blue when he finished and the hundreds of creatures rapidly moved in response to their leader's anger. His patience was waning with the human race, and their ability to avoid death and multiply regardless. Their capacity for survival wasn't, however, his reason for quickening their destruction. Enraged and unable to quell the anger, he felt jealousy radiate in his veins. _'Yes, jealousy. I believe that's what they call it.' _

--The Beach--

Goku had buried Pan's body himself, once it was obvious Gohan wasn't going to return before sunset. They couldn't leave her body exposed, in case the blood hungry creatures detected her in some way. He had wanted to cry, but couldn't, and felt himself want to wretch when he thought of the earth consuming her. Chi chi had sobbed so hard her throat was now dry and scratched; Bulma had sat with her, their sorrow echoed in each other's tears. He was somewhat surprised to see Vegeta's eyes water, momentarily, but the shock was soon surpassed by outrage when he looked at the Saiyan. Gohan and Vegeta had been on watch that night, and they had both fallen asleep. Therefore some of the blame lay with Vegeta, and Goku would never let that go.

They had decided that a monument would be created when Gohan returned, and they would have a memorial service tomorrow, when their thoughts would be with Pan, and not the fear for their lives. Bulma had been tinkering with the radio when the sobbing had died down, needing to do something with her hands. The broadcasts were the same, repeated and most were indistinguishable from interference. The reports which were circulating, informed the group that the secondary defences around major cities had failed and that evacuation to the North had been abandoned. The Northern hemisphere was completely compromised, the race obviously preferring a colder climate, and that people were recommended to escape into the country.

The news reports only dampened the mood, although the sound of voice and the familiar media offered a somewhat comforting sound. Trunks and Goten were silent, feeling nothing but the childish version of upset, which was more overwhelming and incredibly unforgiving. As the sun set neared, Goku grew worried for Gohan, knowing that the young man wouldn't return for a long time. _'If he returns.'_

--Piccolo, Sunset--

Gohan had sat with his mentor, using the material of his clothes to wrap around his open wounds. As the adrenaline in his blood dwindled, he found his thoughts returning to his daughter. Piccolo was laying down, his eyes open but unfocused, as Gohan tended to his injuries. He was deep in thought, unable to rely on his waking mind, and felt a distance away from Gohan. As he clothed Piccolo's wounds, Gohan felt resentment as he cared for the man, but was compelled regardless.

He knew that the Piccolo he knew wouldn't hurt Pan. He knew that. _'Then why do I doubt him?' _The question plagued him, making him wonder about Piccolo's nature. He looked at the Namek, whose gaze was empty, and he tried to decipher just what his friend had become. _'So, at night he becomes this other person, this monster? Savaging everything in its path like those creatures?' _His reasoning seemed realistic, but he couldn't fathom why he would have killed Pan. _'She was no threat, you know that! Why Pan and not the others? Not me?' _He waited for his mind to answer his question, but the answer never came. It was unlikely, he realised, that a reasoned answer would ever present itself, and he growled in anger.

His hands moved swiftly to sheathe Piccolo's wounds, and as he did he noticed the extent of the damage he had caused. The cuts and torn skin was now covered, but the bruises and grazes that littered Piccolo's frame remained uncared for. The prominent skeletal structure also remained undisguised, and Gohan remembered that Piccolo had evidently not eaten. He furrowed his eyebrows, _'Piccolo drinks water, and there's been plenty of that.'_ He soon came to the conclusion that Piccolo needed something else to sustain him. It was then that realisation cleared in his mind. He looked at Piccolo nervously, and uncertain. He needed blood.

He moved to the motionless Namek, and embraced him. He wrapped himself securely around him, before speaking, quietly but certain.

"Piccolo, I need you to bite me"

Piccolo remained still, and only a flicker of his eyes allowed Gohan to realise that Piccolo had registered his words. When Piccolo didn't move, Gohan urged him again, this time cupping Piccolo's face in both hands as he lay beside him.

"Piccolo, listen. Listen to me"

When Piccolo murmured, Gohan took it as encouragement and shook his head slightly, to maintain the Namek's attention.

"I need you to bite me, right here. Okay?"

He moved Piccolo's mouth to his where his throat met his shoulder, nudging him against his skin. He wrapped one arm around Piccolo's torso while he held one hand against the Namek's head, still pushing him against his skin.

"Come on Piccolo, work with me"

He waited a little while longer, and was about to check if Piccolo was awake when he felt the sharp pain of teeth slicing into him. He was shocked for a moment, and was slightly amused at the pain. It was sharp and uncomfortable but not as unpleasant as he had expected.

He held Piccolo's head against him as his emerald mouth moved just above his collarbone, hungrily and with more vigour than Gohan was prepared for. Piccolo's arms slowly and clumsily moved towards the half-Saiyan's torso, in an effort to be closer to Gohan, but his strength only allowed him to reach just past his ribs. Gohan moved his left hand back and helped Piccolo close the gap, wanting the intimacy. He felt somewhat bizarre as he lay, encouraging Piccolo to drink his blood, and wondered what the scene would look like to an onlooker. _'A little like kinky sex,'_ he smiled a little at the thought before he felt his eyes slip close.

He was daydreaming slightly when Piccolo closed his lips, and tried to move away from Gohan. The movement shocked the smaller man awake, and he carefully moved Piccolo's head back, aware that it would take some time for the Namek to regain his energy. As he laid Piccolo on the ground, he noticed that his skin was warmer. Smoothing his fingers along the side of his sleeping face, and down his neck he felt affection tug at his mind. When he did however, he snatched back his hand. '_You still murdered Pan,' _he felt upset cloud his eyes once again, and as the light diminished and the dark assumed authority, he cried. He mourned her death for hours, but not just for Pan. His eyes stung with the familiar pain of betrayal, because the man he loved had killed her.

**Please Read and Review! Hope this clears a few things up, still much more to come! Thank you for reading!**


	10. To See Your Face Again

**Sorry for the very long update, busy busy! Hope you like this chapter; I have much more to come as the story gets more complex! Thank you for reading!**

**I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters or contents; I do however own everything else :p**

**Chapter 10 – To see your face again**

**-Ethan-**

His eyes had narrowed, the pale of his skin contrasting with his hair so strikingly that Ethan became surreal as he paced in the moonlight. The ferocity of his mood was ebbing at his reason, and the unfamiliar feeling of losing control swam in his veins. The trees passed him rapidly as his speed increased, the anger in his steps forcing his boots to collide with the ground in haste. As his walk blurred into a run he bared his fangs, hissing at the unknown ahead of him, intent on massacring anything in his path.

**-The Beach-**

Once the sun's last heated ray had dissipated, leaving only it's reddened path in the dark blue sky, Bulma had arranged their mechanical defences. As her pale fingers operated the device, her eyes dimmed into their sullen, watered lids as she attempted to blink away the tears. Their defensive system was obsolete, perhaps only serving to alarm them when it's too late and ensuring they watch on as the creatures dispatch each and every one of them. She slammed the small hatch closed and each of the mechanisms beeped and flashed once, informing her of their received upgrade. _'Useless piece of crap'_. She leaned on the upright machine to stand, her transparent nail varnish glittering in the moon's now dominant glow.

Goku's demeanour was murderous, his gaze violating anyone's attempt at consolation. His folded arms boasted his muscle tone, and his dark eyes echoed his frame's intimidating appearance. As Vegeta walked by him, an incredible urge consumed him, testing his already tattered patience and resolve. The smaller Saiyan quickened his pace, very aware of Goku's angered and vengeful mood, and he strode towards his wife.

Noting Bulma's defeated slump as she sat against a smooth, grey rock he chose to stare off into the night, not wanting to drown in the melancholy. The dark blue was now becoming black and several stars had shone through before the others, some closer and more intense. When he had let his eyes slip closed the previous night, his drowsy consciousness prevailing through his once strong ability to force awareness. He had been so sure Gohan would stay awake and rouse him after a while; he only wanted a few minutes rest. The calm serenity of the galaxies above him mocked his mind's turmoil, and as he let his gaze wander to the ocean below he felt the painful pang of regret claw at his chest. _'It wasn't my fault; he should have woken me, bloody half breed'. _

"Tell me Vegeta, do you ever take the blame for anything?"

Goku's cold growl was unfamiliar, each word armed with ferocity and malice. Vegeta's eyes flickered in the other Saiyan's direction, not wishing to make proper contact. He knew any kind of argument would escalate, and result in bloodshed, all of which would be his own. _'Forget it Kakkarot, I won't let you beat me, not because of her. For her maybe, but not because of her'. _Goku heeded his silent words, not allowing his own rage to mar the day of Pan's death.

-**Gohan and Piccolo-**

Gohan was holding Piccolo securely when he felt his grip tear from the emerald chest he was clutching. The sleep he had fallen into had been empty, content and the shock he felt was extreme as he felt his hands let go of Piccolo. The pain in his upper back hit him immediately, the stinging of pierced flesh strumming down his spine. He made a noise then, startled and strangled, rousing the Namekian from his slumber. Ethan's claws had carved their way into Gohan's body and he expended no time in throwing the half-Saiyan aside. The intensity of his rage burned in his vision, and as Gohan thumped to the ground a few metres away he yelled out Piccolo's name, loud and struggling, and clambered to his feet.

Piccolo had stood; his healing body now standing vast but his composure was incomparable to Ethan's, who still dwarfed Piccolo's size. The silver blue of the creature's eyes bored through the Namek's and for a moment, glimmered to their original colour before resuming their menacing hue. The sharp metal which had protruded from his hands when he threw Gohan began to retract as he stared at Piccolo, becoming almost mesmerised by the Namek's gaze. Gohan watched as the creature calmed and immediately stole the opportunity to hurtle towards the leader, gathering momentum as he ran.

As the half-Saiyan quickened his pace, Piccolo watched as Ethan's fists curled and the metallic weapons protruded from his skin once more. Once Gohan was only a hand's breadth away Piccolo threw himself at Ethan, grabbing the creature and shoving him to the dirt beneath them. Piccolo's deep, baritone voice spilled from his lips more certain then he had expected.

"What the Fuck do you want?!"

Ethan's sharp teeth glimmered as he laughed at the Namek, who was grinding his claws into the creature's arms.

"Answer me!"

Ethan's eyes calmed to their warm brown and his hands retracted their blades, his body resuming its normal state.

"Perhaps, Piccolo, we need to talk"

Piccolo's startled expression made Ethan smile; knowing that he still had the upper hand.

"Release me and I will answer your questions"

Gohan realised at once Ethan's deception, and the creature's inability to fight Piccolo's grip. _'He can't defeat Piccolo? Or he won't?'_

"Piccolo, don't let him go! He's lying to you!"

The Namek looked towards Gohan and then back at the serene Ethan, whose eyes were lulling him into submission. The creature's thick dark hair had sprawled slightly, exposing his smooth, pale forehead and slightly pointed ears. Piccolo fought against the urge to give in and roughly demanded.

"How can I trust you?"

Ethan then twisted his arms around Piccolo's, taking advantage of the Namek's loose grip, and sat up. The movement threw Piccolo and he found himself stumbling for words. Straddling Ethan, and with the creature's chest firm against his own, their heads were level. Holding Piccolo's arms in a strong grip, Ethan's smooth, deep voice echoed from his lips.

"You can't"

Piccolo, swallowed by his now submissive position remained silent for a moment, before anger forced him to slam his chest down onto Ethan's. Not expecting the action, the creature made an alarmed grunt as he was shoved once again into the dirt. Gohan then intervened, choosing to fire his onslaught of curiosity before Ethan disappeared.

"What did you do to our Chi?"

"I didn't have to do anything; your power is pathetic"

Infuriated, Gohan ran towards Ethan and before the creature could speak, punched the side of his face. He then asked the question which had revolved in his head since they left Capsule Corp.

"Why do you want Piccolo?"

Ethan laughed, resulting in another punch, making Ethan bleed for what seems to be the first time. Gohan watches the small river of red snake down pale skin as he speaks.

"Why do you want Piccolo?"

"The virus we transmit reacts differently with him. It kills humans, but not him."

"So it doesn't kill Namek's? Then why not go to Namek?"

The creature shakes his head, his voice beginning to emit an exasperated quality.

"I didn't say Nameks, I said him. You don't understand the dynamics of the situation Gohan, I suggest you stop trying"

Gohan was becoming frustrated with Ethan and slammed the creature's head on the ground, feeling a sort of satisfaction when he heard a slight crack. Piccolo looked up at his former pupil and concern flashed in his eyes for a moment at the younger man's ferocity. With his hands clutching either side of Ethan's skull, Gohan's words rushed from his lips.

"Why did he kill Pan?!"

At this, Piccolo's mouth fell agape slightly, and he swallowed, the events of the previous night crashing into his consciousness.

"You really don't understand do you? He didn't kill her; he let her escape humanity"

Once the cold words left Ethan's mouth Gohan moved to slam the creature's head into the ground once again. When his fingers clenched however, they immediately slammed into one another, the force of the collide making him fall forward into Piccolo. When he did, anger flooded his mind, the familiar emotion making his skin itch. He shoved Piccolo away, hitting him, not really in control of his movements. Ethan had vanished, again, and it made Gohan want to scream.

When he stopped his onslaught, he sat back, tired of the rage coursing through him. Leaning back on his knees, his judgemental gaze fell upon Piccolo's seated, bruised body. He couldn't stop the sneering question from leaving his mouth.

"Is that what you thought you were doing? Freeing her?"

Piccolo narrowed his eyes, losing his patience for the constant temper from Gohan. He was brimming with regret, guilt and misery; leaving no energy to deal with his temperamental friend. _'I did kill his daughter though, murdered her', _and for that reason he watched on as Gohan screamed at him.

**-The Beach-**

Sun rise was only two hours away, and the sky was still dark and unforgiving, blending with the now depthless ocean. Goku and Eighteen had guarded the group that night, neither of them succumbing to sleep nor needing it. Goku clenched his fists in uncontained grief while Eighteen simply sat, serene, content to mourn Pan quietly and without motion. He glanced at her forever perfect hair and sighed, she would never change, and in his eyes, neither would Pan.

He looked towards her grave, some metres away, and felt the soft burn of tears assault his senses. They had given her a shallow burial; the desperation to complete the dig in time for sunset had overwhelmed their determination to find a deep enough hole. As he stared he felt upset swarm in his mind and the unpleasant pull on his heart made him want to wretch.

He glanced toward the ocean and noticed its pure surface broken by the gentle crashing as the tide neared them. It wouldn't reach them though and would soon leave again, forever a slave to its own cycle. He listened to its quiet caress as it reached up the sand, his ears pricking at every rock which crashed with it. As his closed his eyes, he heard the soft patter of sand moving and the scuff of struggling. He snapped his eyes open and immediately centred his vision on the sound to his left. He alerted the others with a yell and Eighteen stood and ran towards him. As everyone clambered up in fright and alarm Bulma threw a flashlight in Goku's direction.

Once he caught it he immediately shone the light in the direction of the noise, Krillan then pointing a fairly obsolete gun in the same direction. In the sand, with the dark behind her, Pan stood wavering on her feet, raising her bloodied and ragged arms to block out the light. Shock washed over them and in an instant Chi-chi began to run towards her Granddaughter, yelling her name. Eighteen grabbed her and pulled her back, confusion and wariness evident on her beautiful features.

Goku continued to point the light in Pan's direction and waited to see if he was hallucinating. Around her the sand was mounded and had been kicked by her small feet. As she stood, the light identified the wounds she was supporting and to everyone's horror, as she lowered her arm, part of her jawbone was jutting out. Goku's throat bobbed as he swallowed and saw the deformed version of his granddaughter look back at them. Bulma then took the opportunity to speak, her voice as gentle and as calm as she could manage.

"Pan, honey, are you ok?"

Her wide eyes looked at Bulma, their innocence bright in their colour. She then opened her mouth, but instead of words, she bared her teeth. They soon sharpened into fangs, unusually large next to her small molars, and she growled loudly at Bulma. Pan's feet then moved so rapidly not even Goku could intervene in her path towards Bulma, her speed so comparable to the 'breed' it made him want to scream. As Pan reached out towards her, her nails lengthening and her deformed, bloodied face falling agape to accommodate her fangs a loud sound echoed throughout the beach. Her surprised eyes would never leave Goku's mind, the one beautiful portrayal of his granddaughter marred by this horrid version. The bullet had hit her hard in the head and Krillan's hand still shook from pulling the trigger. His mouth lay open, his cheeks red and his features obviously overwhelmed by fear and surprise. He had shot Pan.

Goku watched on as her delicate body fell to the ground and her head bounced on the sand. His precious granddaughter had been murdered a second time.

**Please Read and Review! Much more to come! Thank you**


	11. To be Fooled

**Sorry for the long update, but I think this story is finally going somewhere and as it goes on the scene will widen a bit, more characters and such. I hope you like it so far, and thank you for all the reviews, especially you regulars =]**

**I do not own Dragonball Z, or any of its contents or characters**

**I do however own Kisoka!**

**Chapter 11 – To be Fooled**

**-Gohan and Piccolo-**

His feet scathed the floor as he stepped, the soil ground beneath his feet as he leaned his bodyweight into it. Gohan was several feet ahead, moving hurriedly in the direction of the ocean, his mind desperately reasoning that his family would still be there; his heart sitting low in his chest. His thoughts drifted to Piccolo, who he could hear shuffle behind him, and he grimaced at the reminder of their situation. Their lack of information was bewildering, and his patience waned as he breathed the sea salt air.

Piccolo watched Gohan's hair bob with his motion, before lowering his eyes and instead spying a suitable path away from the z senshi, waiting for his moment to flee. The trees were clustered together in a haphazard way, obviously nature's spontaneous design, obscuring any real escape. After a few moments, the wood and leaves gave way to a narrow path, albeit overgrown, and Piccolo anxiously stepped in its direction. Hoping the leaves wouldn't betray his whereabouts; he laboriously paced around them, and ducked to avoid a tree branch. His arms grazed the bushes lining the path and his boots collided roughly with jutting out rocks, only angering him as he noticed how substandard his balance had become.

Once he had walked a few yards down the path, which he judged to be only a mile parallel to the Ocean, he hesitantly glanced behind him. Gohan had obviously trudged on, unaware of Piccolo's absence and he allowed himself a slight smile. _'He was getting on my nerves anyway.' _Once the thought had sounded in his head, he frowned at himself, his brief flippancy replaced with self loathing. _'Like I deserve peace, Pan is not the first person I've killed and by the looks of things, not the last. He should have killed me. He should have fucking killed me.'_

**-The beach-**

"You should have fucking killed him!"

Goku's yell pierced his wife's ears as she tried to calm him down, his temper overwhelming his sensibility as he shoved her away. Gohan had just arrived, he had only mentioned Piccolo momentarily, but the sentence was enough to send his father spiralling towards a fit. As Goku ranted, restrained by Eighteen, Gohan glanced back towards the wood which surrounded the beach. _'Where did you go Piccolo?'_

Vegeta watched on as Goku struggled to control his temper. His eyes darted to Gohan before settling instead on Bulma, who was currently sitting on the small grave stone they had built for Pan, obscuring it from view. They had agreed not to tell Gohan of Pan's bizarre reanimation, sparing him the added heartache of missing his daughter's last breath once again. His dark eyes looked into Chi chi's, whose own eyes were red and dry, for a moment he felt admiration for her, envying her ability to remain strong. She was so together, so able to keep control and despite her husband's tormented wailing, was silent as she stood by him. He dismissed the thought as he looked back at Gohan, content that nobody noticed his judgemental stare.

Bulma interrupted the silence once Goku had calmed, his self control finally returning and giving them all time to think. Her voice, though laced with a nasal quality, was serious and sparked their attention immediately.

"There's a new broadcast on the radio"

Vegeta whipped his head to look at her; she must have been tampering with it whilst he pondered in his own head.

"I think they've found a way to kill them"

Her words stunned the z senshi, who anxiously glanced at one another, waiting for the hopes to be ruthlessly overturned.

"A team of scientists, in the North I think, have studied a few of them. They're powerful and numerous, but they can't keep it that way. They're infertile."

Gohan interrupted, his intelligent mind rolling the declaration over in his head.

"So they're infertile, how does that help us kill them? We can't wait around for their species to die out Bulma"

"It's the reason why they're infertile. They're all infected with a virus, they're engineered. Gohan, if there's a virus, I promise there's a cure"

"Even if they could find the cure, what could we do with it? There's thousands of them, if not millions. We're hiding at the fucking beach Bulma! We're not able to attack them at all!"

"We can't no, but Piccolo can"

At this, Goku's eyes lit up with rage as he growled.

"We can't trust Piccolo! He's a killer!"

Gohan knew he was betraying his mentor when he found himself nodding at his father, Piccolo was in no position to help them, and probably wouldn't.

"I don't think Piccolo will Bulma, he won't risk confrontation with us. Especially after what's happened. I mean, he took off…"

Gohan's voice trailed off when something occurred to him, colliding with the front of his head with an alarming speed. He voiced his realisation, disbelief evident in his words.

"He's one step ahead of us. That's where he's gone, he's going to try and fix this."

Bulma's voice was hesitant as she shook her head.

"But Piccolo, he can survive in the light, he's what they're looking for. His body's ability to override the imperfections in the virus…he's the missing link and he's walking right into their hands!"

Gohan's surprise was obvious in his eyes, but he couldn't smooth out the kinks in her theory.

"But Ethan had more than once chance to take Piccolo, why wait until he looks for them?"

Eighteen then chose to interrupt, her gentle cultured voice catching their attention as she unravelled the complexity of their situation.

"They need his trust, and they won't have that until we're out of the way"

Chi-chi then joined in, trying to grasp her reasoning, her voice harsh but soft, as if scolding her son.

"Then why not kill us?"

Goku then spoke, his rare spark of intelligence chosing to show itself.

"Because Piccolo won't trust them unless we're with them, out of danger. For that to happen, we have to become like them. That's why Ethan is letting Piccolo come back here, to infect us."

Vegeta disagreed, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

"But what will that achieve? Other than turning us into blood sucking monsters?!"

"We'll be like them, no opposition, nobody to hold Piccolo back and remind him of anything but the animal inside him"

Gohan's anger was no bristling behind his eyes, confusion evident on his features.

"What do you mean infect us? Piccolo can spread the virus?"

Bulma looked up at Gohan, and her wide eyes became soft as she prepared to tell the young man, knowing that his heart would brake once she whispered his daughter's name.

**-Piccolo-**

The grass had become groomed as he left the wood, his feet touching the lawn which framed a large farmhouse. Its window's were smashed, and he thought for a moment he saw movement within. _'In the darkness, that's where they wait until the sun sets and they can swarm like ants, like insects.' _The ground floor windows were boarded up, but the top right window was empty, no glass or wood. _'Are they watching me?'_

He found himself staring into the window before moving on, his intense dark eyes searching for movement. He threw his head in a shake as he walked, trying to concentrate on his direction but instead dwelling on Gohan. His focus was erratic, and he rubbed his temple with his right hand, _'I need to meditate, how long has it been? Weeks?'_. When he pulled his hand away, he halted its movement in mid air as the light caught his fingers. They were slightly red. He stared, puzzled, for a few moments before he closed his jade eyes and released a breath. It was blood, probably Gohan's, or…_'Pan's'._

He felt a scoff escape his throat at the guilt which was heavy in his chest. Remembering a time when heartache was an emotion other people felt, guilt was an alien feeling which only distracted him when he let it. As he walked, his balance wavering slightly, he mused. Crossing the lawn entirely and strolling down a dirt track towards the main road, which was only a few miles, he lifted his head. It was early in the afternoon, but a smile wouldn't grace his lips. Instead, he replaced the unfamiliar and unpleasant feeling of disgrace with hatred. For a time he had hated Gohan, resented him.

He let his sharp nails graze the wall which lined the dirt track and wondered briefly just where he was going. _'Away from Gohan'_, his feet kept pacing as he let his legs decide. _'I have to find Ethan; I have to stop all of this.' _He wondered briefly if Dande was alright, alive. He had avoided thinking about him, knowing that either they hadn't reached the Lookout, or the young Namek was as incapacitated as he was. He had no way of knowing, his telepathic abilities numbed and Chi depleted. _'Why can't we use our Chi? They must have poisoned us. Intoxicated the water supply?'_

As he reached the road his head began to drum in protest. The stone was smooth, but empty, and looking in both directions Piccolo almost expected to see a vehicle. When none came he felt cold, like the reality of the situation was penetrating his surreal memory of events. The grass on the other side of the road swayed in the gentle wind, and glittered in the warm, mocking light. As he stood, deciding which direction to go, the loneliness bit into his defensive passivity. His fists clenched and he bit down, grinding his teeth together in rage. He loathed to see Gohan's hateful stare, and knew that if he went back, their hatred is all he would receive. He was on his own now, and he could fix this. _'I can undo some of it, maybe some will be enough.'_

He turned to his left, and began to walk down the road when a faint rustling caught his attention. With accentuated hearing, he sensed that it was from his right and moving towards him. Turning in that direction, he prepared himself to attack when the intruder stepped forward out of the long grass. Exhaling, Piccolo let himself relax slightly at the sight of the figure. The young boy was only six or seven, healthy and as far as Piccolo could tell, human. The boy's wide green eyes stared up at him, filled with fear and relief. The Namek stepped towards the child, reaching his hand out to reassure him, before speaking. His baritone voice rumbled, making the boy jump.

"What's your name?"

He swallowed before answering the man, intimidated by a number of things, mainly his height.

"Kisoka"

The boy halted for a moment, his messy blonde hair falling in his eyes as he built enough courage to ask the Namek a question.

"Are you a monster?"

Piccolo snickered at the child, before he realised just how like a monster he had become. He forced a slight smile for the boy, knowing that somehow he would have to gain the boy's trust.

"No, I'm not a monster. I'm Piccolo"

A broad smile boasted Kisoka's small white teeth and made Piccolo's expression soften slightly.

"Where are your parents?"

"I don't know, they didn't come back"

Piccolo knew full well that the child's parents were dead, but for Kisoka's sake, he forced another small smile before answering.

"I'll look after you until we find them ok?"

"Ok"

The boy's voice was typical of his age, high and with that nasal sound that made them adorable but painfully annoying. He knew that he couldn't take Kisoka with him but he didn't have enough time to travel to the beach and back before dark. _'If it was Gohan?' _He motioned to the boy to travel with him as he began down the road, slowly. Kisoka ran to his side, reaching his small hand to Piccolo's. The Namek looked down at the boy, confusion and annoyance in his eyes. When Kisoka wasn't deterred, Piccolo resigned himself to let the boy hold his fingers the best his tiny ones could manage.

He would have to bring the boy with him, he knew that. _'Please don't die on me, I have enough blood on my hands.'_

**Please Read and Review! I wonder if I should continue? Hope you like it Thanks!**


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